Chuck Versus the Buy More Bomber
by timewalker05
Summary: Spy World and the Buy More collide when a bomber starts targeting Buy Mores in Southern California. Enter Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, a meglomaniac with designs on our favorite nerd. And chinchillas. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Casey Makes a New Friend

All of my other longer stories have been pretty much angst-fests. So I decided I needed to stretch and do a story that was more action/comedy oriented, although comedy is definitely not my forte. Given my writing style, there will be a little angst as well, I'm sure. But not as heavy as my other stories.

This fic is essentially an Alternate Universe (AU) fic set sometime in the middle of season two. Certainly it wouldn't fit in the current timeline with Orion and Roark, et al. Let's say it's set after _Best Friend_ but before _Suburbs_ (going with the proper order of airing of the episodes). That's the problem with fan fics, the show tends to render one's storyline obsolete before one can finish it.

The idea for this fic came as a result of trying to figure out how to get Moses Finkelstein, the CEO and Founder of Buy More, into a story. So, for better or worse, here it is…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 1

Casey Makes a New Friend

Chuck Bartowki was bored out of his skull. He hadn't flashed for over a week, so now he was stuck on his eighth straight day of Nerd Herd desk duty. There hadn't even been an interesting install to break the monotony. And it wasn't just Chuck. Casey was getting surly. Okay. Surlier. Even Sarah was starting to show the strain of doing nothing but serving frozen yogurt day after boring day. Chuck found himself hoping for a national security emergency just to relieve the tedium of his Buy More life.

He glanced over to where Casey was showing a customer the special features of the Beastmaster grill and grinned. Casey threw himself into any assignment with both feet, even selling appliances. Who would have thought that the NSA's top assassin would be the Buy More's top selling appliance salesman? What was amusing was the number of attractive suburban housewives that came in several times to 'look at appliances' just so John Casey would wait on them. Even more amusing was the fact that Casey seemed completely oblivious to his following of lusty suburban housewives.

Chuck grabbed another work order to enter into the computer when Jeff and Lester, the Laurel and Hardy of the Buy More, came running up to the Nerd Herd desk waiving a piece of paper in Chuck's face.

"We're gonna be rich, Charles, rich!" Lester said.

"Yeah. All the babes and beer we can handle. And I can handle a lot. Of beer that is, I tend to get a little nervous around the babes…"

"Can it, oaf," Lester said. "Let me tell Chuck my idea."

"Your idea?" Jeff said. "I found the flyer."

"Which you were going to use as a napkin," Lester said.

"The meatball sub was messy," Jeff said. Chuck did notice that he had tomato sauce smeared all over his chin.

Lester thrust the piece of paper at Chuck. "Chinchillas!" Lester said triumphantly.

"Excuse me?" Chuck asked, gingerly handling the paper to avoid getting the bits of tomato and meatball on his hands.

"We're going to raise chinchillas," Lester said.

"We're going to be Chinchilla ranchers," Jeff corrected.

"Chinchilla coats are hot," Lester said.

"Technically, that's probably correct," Chuck said. "But I don't think…"

"If Jeff here can raise ferrets…" Lester began.

"Actually, just one ferret," Jeff corrected.

"Whatever," Lester said, curtly. "It can't be that hard. We raise the chinchillas and sell the fur. We're going to be rich!"

"Beer and babes," Jeff said.

"You said it, bubala," Lester responded, holding up his hand for a high five from Jeff. Jeff slapped it, sending tomato sauce flying all over the two of them and speckling their white Nerd Herd shirts.

"Now look what you did," Lester howled. "Emmett won't let us work like this. I've gotta change."

He spun around and marched off toward the break room, Jeff trailing along behind. Chuck laid the paper on the counter and shook his head. "I wonder if they know that you have to kill the chinchillas to get the fur?" he muttered.

He shrugged. Where were Jeff and Lester going to get breeding chinchillas anyway?

He was about to go back to his invoices when Sarah came through the front doors. As usual, Chuck stopped and stared. He still couldn't believe that this gorgeous woman was his girlfriend. All right, cover girlfriend, but still he got to do some fake cuddling and the occasional cover kiss, which was more than he had gotten in the five years between Jill at Stanford and Sarah's appearance in his life.

Sarah leaned over the Nerd Herd counter and gave him a kiss.

"Hi, sweetie," she said.

"Hi, Sarah," he said in that goofy voice he reverted to whenever Sarah kissed him. "You'll never believe Jeff and Lester's latest scheme. They're going to try to raise chinchillas. I thought that went out with fifties sitcoms."

"Later," Sarah said. "We have an emergency. Turn to channel seven." She indicated the video wall.

Chuck grabbed the remote and entered the code to control the video wall, and then tuned to channel seven. There was a helicopter shot of smoke billowing out of a box store. Chuck turned up the volume. "…not known at this time how many people were in the store when the explosion occurred. Police and firefighters have sealed off the area and there is no report, as yet, as to the cause of the explosion. Witnesses said that a fireball erupted from the store approximately twenty minutes ago. Again, for those of you just joining us, there has been an explosion at the Buy More electronics store in Northridge. We have no reports of injuries, but the store was open for business at the time of the explosion. We have no word, as yet, on the cause of the explosion, but we will update you as more information becomes available."

Stunned, Chuck looked at Sarah and then around the store. There was stunned silence as everyone, employees and customers alike, stared transfixed at the images on the television. A woman looked around nervously, grabbed the hand of her young child and walked quickly toward the entrance of the store, her child running to keep up with her. Another customer turned and hurried out, and then another. Within a few minutes, the store was empty except for Green Shirts, Nerd Herders and Sarah.

The door to Big Mike's office opened and Big Mike came out. "Milbarge," he yelled. Then he stopped and looked around. "Where the hell are all the customers?"

Chuck, Sarah and Casey stood in front of the video screen upon which was the sour visage of General Diane Beckman. "LAPD has determined that the explosion at the Northridge Buy More was caused by an explosive devise. I want you to go over there as FBI investigators and see if the Intersect flashes on anything. I want to know what kind of bomb this was."

"General," Casey said. "Recommend that the asset be sent to a secure location until we can determine the cause of the bombing."

"The 'asset' is right here," Chuck said.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, General," Sarah said. "Fulcrum has targeted the Buy More before in order to smoke out the Intersect. If this is a Fulcrum operation and Chuck suddenly disappears from the Buy More, they would have confirmation that Chuck is the one we're protecting. That he's the Intersect."

"I see your point, Major," Beckman said, "but Agent Walker is correct. Let's see what information we have on this bombing before we make any decision regarding the asset."

The screen went black.

"Why does everyone talk about me like I'm not here?" Chuck asked.

Casey ignored him and went into a side room at the Castle and emerged with three duffle bags. "Let's get changed," he said. "We get to be FBI agents." His tone said what he thought of the FBI.

Thirty minutes later, Casey pulled his black Suburban up to the yellow crime scene tape stretched around the parking lot of the Northridge Buy More Plaza. He, Sarah and Chuck got out. "Let me do the talking," Casey said as a uniformed police officer approached them.

Chuck stepped forward and whipped out a badge. "Special Agent Charles Carmichael, FBI. This is Special Agent Walker and Agent Casey. We were called down to have a look at the crime scene."

The officer glanced at the badge, the black jackets with "FBI" stenciled on the left breast and across the back, and the big black Suburban. He lifted the crime scene tape and motioned the three agents toward the store. "Captain Anders is the detective in charge," he said. He pointed to a middle-aged woman with a cigarette hanging from her bottom lip talking into a radio. "See her."

The three ducked under the police tape and started toward Captain Anders. "What part of 'let me do the talking' didn't you understand?" Casey growled at Chuck.

"And miss the X-Files moment?" Chuck asked. "Not on your life."

Casey reached up and grabbed the back of Chuck's jacket and yanked him backwards while he continued walking toward Captain Anders. "That wasn't very nice," Chuck gasped, rubbing his throat.

"Chuck, quit baiting Casey," Sarah said. "And let us do the talking."

"Fine," Chuck said, testily.

When Sarah and Chuck caught up to Casey, he was just putting his badge away. "So we would like to take a look around at the crime scene," Casey said. "This may be related to some other bombings we're investigating."

Chuck guessed Captain Anders was somewhere between forty-five and fifty, with short blonde hair that obviously came from a bottle given the dark roots and a face lined from a lifetime of squinting and cigarettes. She wore a cheap suit and no jewelry other than two gold stud earrings. She pulled the cigarette out of her mouth. "Where?" she asked.

"Where what?" Casey asked.

"Where are these other bombings, sweet-cheeks?" Anders asked Casey. Chuck and Sarah stifled a guffaw.

"We're not at liberty to say," Casey said.

"Then I'm not at liberty to give you access to my crime scene," Anders replied.

"You're interfering with a federal investigation," Casey said.

"And you're cute when you're mad," Anders said, her voice raspy from the cigarettes. "Tell you what. You buy me a drink and I'll let you take a look-see."

"What?" Casey asked.

"Agent Casey would be happy to buy you a drink," Sarah cut in.

Anders smiled and Chuck was reminded of an Animal Planet special with a lioness pouncing on a gazelle. Anders stepped aside. "Forensics and the arson investigators haven't finished yet, so don't touch anything."

"How many?" Chuck asked, seeing a coroner's wagon pulling slowly away.

"Excuse me?" Anders asked.

"How many people?" Chuck asked.

"We're still counting bodies and digging through the rubble," Anders said. "Our best guess is between twenty-five and thirty. It may take a bit. Some of the bodies are crispy critters."

Chuck paled. Sarah took his arm. "Come on, Agent Carmichael. Let's have a look." She led him toward the store. Chuck stopped and looked up. The green and yellow Buy More sign was blackened and hanging askew with the 'R' and 'E' missing.

"I don't know if I can do this, Sarah," he said.

"I'm right here with you, Chuck," she said. "It'll be fine. We need to see if you flash on anything that will help us find out who did this." She pulled him forward.

The ground under their feet crunched with broken glass. The front doors had been blown out and were lying ten yards from the front of the store.

Chuck stopped again. "Are there going to be any bodies? I don't deal well with dead bodies."

"Come on, Chuck," Sarah said, pulling on his arm. "You need to act like an FBI agent. You need to _be_ Charles Carmichael." Chuck took a deep breath and continued forward… into his own personal hell.

The Northridge Buy More was laid out exactly the same as the Burbank store. That made seeing the effects of the bomb all the more startling and disturbing. Electronics, CD's, DVD's and appliances were blacked and strewn about. Water, blackened from the soot, dripped from every surface. A thick, black mess of water mixed with charred bits of… whatever covered the floor. Chuck felt his stomach heave and was glad he hadn't had time for lunch.

Chuck and Sarah picked their way around the worst debris and puddles of black water to where a man in a Los Angeles County Fire Department jacket stood looking around.

"Excuse me," Sarah said. "I'm Agent Walker; this is Agent Carmichael of the FBI. We're been called in to help with the investigation."

The fireman, a middle-aged man with dark hair turning silver at the temples frowned at them. "I was expecting ATF," he said, holding out his hand. "Captain Doug Schultz, Arson Squad."

Sarah shook his hand, followed by Chuck. "They'll be along later. We were in the area. How did you determine it was a bomb?" Sarah asked.

Captain Schultz walked them through the tell tale signs of the explosion. "The device was here," he said, pointing to a spot at the epicenter of the scorching and damage. "It looks like it was packed in a television, from the debris we've found and the location of the blast."

"How long to get a chemical analysis of the explosive residue?" Sarah asked.

"Forty-eight hours, give or take," Captain Schultz said. "We've asked for it to be expedited."

"Mind if we look around?" Sarah asked.

"Don't touch anything," Captain Schultz said, and then shook his head. "Sorry. Of course, you're FBI. You know that." His radio squawked and he said, "Excuse me," and stepped away to answer.

Sarah looked around. She had seen bombings from Beirut to Bogotá, but it shook her up to see such a familiar seeming location so devastated. What must it be doing to Chuck? She looked over at him.

Chuck saw something on the floor and bent down to get a closer look, trying to avoid the soot and water. He started to reach for it when he heard Sarah bark, "Don't touch anything, Chuck." Chuck froze. "What do you see?" she asked.

Chuck pointed to something sticking out from the corner of some debris. Sarah pulled a pen out of her coat and moved the debris aside just enough to get a look at whatever it was Chuck had pointed to. She looked back at Chuck to see his eyes glaze over and his expression go slack. He was having a flash.

"It's a GB-43 industrial detonator," Chuck said. "Radio controlled. They stopped making them in the '70's." He paled a little. "But until then, they were detonator of choice for bombings by the Palestinian branch of the Red Jihad terrorist organization."

Chuck and Sarah were back in the Castle, reporting to General Beckman. "Where's Major Casey?" she asked.

"He's, um, comparing notes with the lead police investigator, General," Sarah said. Chuck smirked. Sarah was happy to see the smirk. Chuck had been very quiet since they left the ruined Buy More.

"I see," General Beckman said. "Well…" A picture of the detonator appeared on the screen next to the General. "The detonator the Intersect flashed on is an industrial detonator manufactured by Goodville Burdette industries in the 1960's and 1970's. A large shipment of the detonators was stolen in 1971 and made its way into the hands of the Palestinian Branch of the Red Jihad terrorist organization. The detonators were used in a series of bombings throughout the world. The last reported use of a GB-43 for a terrorist attack was in 1978 when Abdul Al Fayed was arrested and jailed for bombings in Israel. Although the all the missing GB-43's were not recovered, there has been no reported use since then. Goodville Burdette went bankruptcy in 1982. The ATF is tracing all their remaining stock of detonators but that may take some time."

"Why would a terrorist want to blow up a Buy More?" Chuck asked.

"We don't know that it's a terrorist," Sarah said. "It could still be Fulcrum and are using the GB-43 to throw us off the trail."

"See what you can come up with," General Beckman said. "Agent Walker, you and Agent Casey investigate the explosion and interview any of the surviving employees. This could be as simple as a disgruntled customer or former employee looking for revenge."

"I'm sorry, General, but someone blows up a Buy More because they got a toaster that didn't work right?" Chuck asked. "I'm not buying it."

"Which is why Agents Walker and Casey are going to investigate, Mr. Bartowski. We are simply not ruling anything out at this point." The General leaned forward and the screen went black.

Sarah turned to Chuck. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Chuck slumped against the table. "Not really. It was like… Walking through that store… It just hit kind of close to home, you know?"

Sarah laid a hand on his arm. She understood completely. The devastated Buy more had affected her, too. "Don't worry, Chuck. We'll find whoever did this."


	2. More Mayhem

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 2

More Mayhem

Chuck sat at the table, eating his Nuddy Buddies and frowning. Captain Awesome had gotten the toy out of the box. The only reason Chuck ate Nuddy Buddies was because it was one of the last cereals that still put a toy in the box. What was the point of eating Nuddy Buddies if you didn't get the toy?

Ellie sat down at the table across from him with her bowl of cereal and coffee cup. She looked at him and a look of concern flashed across her face. "You're worried about going into work today, aren't you?"

Chuck looked up at her, startled. He had been so wrapped up in his Nuddy Buddy funk that he hadn't even heard her sit down. "What? Oh, no, no, no," he said.

"Then what's wrong?"

Curse Ellie and her perceptiveness. But he couldn't admit that he was sulking because his sister's fiancé got the toy out of his cereal box. How childish was that? So, he lied. He never used to lie to Ellie. Well, sure, sometimes when they were kids. But what little brother doesn't lie to his big sister about how the heads were all missing from her Barbie dolls because the Orcs had used the catapult to throw them over the wall to rattle the defenders?

Lately… well, at least since he became the Intersect… lying was becoming easier. That bothered him. But not enough not to cover up the whole Nuddy Buddy affair. "Well, yeah. I must just be worried about work." Okay, that wasn't bad. That was true, sort of. Not a complete truth, but true as far as it went. He didn't specify which 'work' he was worried about to Ellie. And he was, he supposed, a little concerned about the whole explosion investigation and whether it meant Fulcrum was closing in again.

"Maybe you should call in sick," Ellie advised.

He couldn't do that. He needed to save his sick days for spy missions. Besides, Nuddy Buddy funk was not recognized as a legitimate illness. "It'll be fine, sis. I mean, we don't even know what caused the explosion at the other Buy More." Okay, that was a bald-faced lie. But he couldn't exactly tell Ellie that he had been poking around the ruined store disguised as an FBI agent. "Probably just a gas main or something."

"I don't know," Ellie said. "I was talking to some of the paramedics when they came by the hospital and they said the scuttlebutt around the fire department was that it was a bomb."

So the story was out, Chuck thought. He shrugged. "Even if it was," he said to Ellie, "it was one Buy More way over in Northridge."

"Northridge isn't that far away. And you don't deal with stress and danger very well, Chuck. Is the Buy More really worth it?"

"It's my job, sis." He looked down at his watch. "And I'm going to be late. I'll see you later."

Ellie watched him go. Maybe she worried about him too much. But he would always be her little brother and it was her job to protect him – from anything.

Chuck pulled the Nerd Herder into the parking lot and took his usual spot. He got out and noticed that the parking lot seemed emptier than usual. He shrugged it off and headed over to the Orange Orange. He knocked on the door and Sarah unlocked it. "Good morning, Chuck," she said and stepped aside so he could enter.

They went back into the freezer. Sarah turned the wall sconce and then entered her access code in the keypad that appeared. The door to the Castle opened and they went down the stairs. Casey was already there, sitting at the central conference table. He was looking through a file.

"Mornin', Casey," Chuck said, breaking into a grin. "Late night with your new lady friend?"

"Stuff it, Bartowski."

Chuck, however, couldn't let it go that easily. How often did he get to chide Casey about his love life? "Common, Casey, share with the class. How is Captain Anders?"

Casey stood and glared at Chuck. "Bartowski, I swear I…"

They heard a throat clearing and both turned to see General Beckman on the screen. Sarah smiled to see Chuck and Casey immediately put in their places with a simple look from the General. They both looked like schoolboys caught throwing spitwads. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Ahem. No General," Casey said. "I was just briefing Bartowski on my meeting with the police Captain last night."

"I see," said Beckman. And her tone indicated that she really did see. Chuck squirmed. Briefings with the General always reminded him of meetings with his high school principal (which were usually a result of one of Morgan's stunts.)

"Do we have any more information on the explosion, General?" Sarah asked.

A computer representation of a tiny bit of polymer appeared on the screen which then broke apart to show its chemical composition. "LAPD recovered taggants from the scene which allowed us to trace the explosives used. The explosives used were commercial grade explosives manufactured by the Tullerite Corporation."

"Excuse me, General, what are taggants?" Chuck asked.

"By law, all explosives manufactured in the United States, and most other countries, are required to contain a small polymer particle called a taggant. The taggants are specially designed to survive the explosion and act as a marker so that we can trace the manufacturer and even the particular lot of a batch of explosives." Beckman touch a button and the image of a police report appeared on the screen. "The explosives used in this particular bomb were from lot 337AB, manufactured by the Tullerite Corporation in 2006. The explosives were stolen from the Deserado Mine in Colorado in April, 2007. ATF investigated and were unable to apprehend the perpetrators. The explosives were never recovered and no trace of them has appeared until now."

"What about the bomb signature?" Casey asked. "Any clues there?"

"We are working with the ATF and the FBI to profile the bomb to see if it matches any known groups, but nothing so far."

"So at this point, there's not much to go on," Sarah said.

"That's correct, Agent Walker," the General said. "I am afraid we don't even have any leads yet that we can follow up using the Intersect. I'm uploading to you all of the information we have. Have Mr. Bartowski look it over and see if he flashes on anything. It's worth a try."

"I'm going to break into the police lockup and grab the surviving security footage from the Buy More that was hit," Casey said.

"Why?" General Beckman asked.

"So we can see if there are any…"

"I mean," the General cut him off, "Why are you going to break in? I understand that you have developed a rapport with Captain Anders, the investigating officer from the LAPD. Simply approach her and ask her for a copy of the footage."

"I'd rather break in," Casey muttered.

"That's an order, Major," the General said flatly. "At this point, until we know more, we will have to piggyback off of their investigation. If we took over, it would be a red flag that we have an interest in the Buy More."

"Yes, General," Casey said in a tone that made clear his thoughts on the matter.

"I'm putting a clock on this one," General Beckman said. "If we can't get any leads in 72 hours, I am going to have Mr. Bartowski moved to a secure location for his safety."

"What about my friends, my co-workers at the Buy More?" Chuck asked.

"I appreciate your concerns, Mr. Bartowski, but my only concern has to be the security of the Intersect." With that, she cut the connection.

"But… but…" Chuck said to the DNI logo that filled the screen.

"Don't worry, Chuck," Sarah said. "We have 72 hours. We'll come up with something."

Chuck walked into the Buy More. As usual, a number of employees were huddled around the Nerd Herd desk.

"I think it was those Large Mart goons," Morgan was saying. "They've had it in for Buymoria for years. I wouldn't put past them to try to put us out of business with a little wet work. I mean, they probably sell explosives, don't they?"

"No, no, no, no, no," Lester said. "I think it was a mob hit. The bomb was probably in an appliance that was supposed to be shipped to some mob boss and it simply went off prematurely." Chuck raised an eyebrow. That actually wasn't bad. He might have to suggest that one to Sarah and Casey as a possibility.

"You're both wrong," Jeff said. "I think that the bomb was planted by a secret cabal within the government in an attempt to get an important government asset hiding out at the Buy More to expose him… or her… self." He gave Anna a meaningful look.

"Grow up, Jeff," Anna huffed and then stalked off.

"Hey, Jeff," Morgan said. "Not cool. No ogling Anna while talking about anybody exposing themselves."

Lester looked at Chuck and made a drinking motion from behind Jeff.

"I've gotta clock in," Chuck said. He did and then went back to the back room to check on the backlog of work orders. As soon as he entered the door, he heard a scratching sound. He frowned and looked around. He heard the scratching again and followed it until he came to 'the Cage', the chain-link enclosure where the Nerd Herd worked on the electronics brought in for repairs. There, on a shelf in the back of the Cage, was an actual cage. Chuck leaned down to peer into the cage and saw two small furry creatures with the head of a mouse, the body of a rabbit and a tail kind of like a squirrel. He rubbed a hand over his eyes while shaking his head.

He went back to the door out to the sales floor and called out, "Jeff, Lester, can I see you back here a moment?"

The terrible twosome came walking/stumbling back to the Cage where Chuck waited.

"What," Chuck asked, pointing to the creatures in the cage, "are those?"

"That's Romeo and Juliette, our chinchillas," Jeff said. "Little suckers are going to breed like rabbits and then we'll be rolling in fur… er… dough. We'll be rolling in dough."

"But why are they _here_?" Chuck asked.

"My apartment doesn't allow pets," Lester said.

"They were freaking out Roscoe, my ferret," Jeff said.

"You can't keep them here," Chuck said. "What are you going to do if Big Mike finds out?"

"Please, Charles," Lester said with a snort. "When's the last time Big Mike came back here?"

"Well, what about Emmett?" Chuck asked. "Do you think Emmett's going to condone a chinchilla farm here in the Cage?"

"You have to keep them in cages," Jeff said. "Otherwise they'll be running all over the store."

"Jeff, that's not what I… ooh… Never mind," Chuck stammered. "Listen, they can't stay here. You have to find somewhere else to keep them. And don't let Emmett see them."

"Perhaps we could cut you in for a percentage," Lester offered.

Chuck just walked out, shaking his head.

The rest of the day was anticlimactic. Chuck had never seen the store so dead. There were a bare handful of customers all day. Chuck stopped by the Orange Orange for lunch, but Sarah was too busy following up leads to have lunch with him so he grabbed a sandwich from Subway and ate with Morgan in the Buy More breakroom.

Once his shift ended and he clocked out, he headed back to the Orange Orange, then down to the Castle.

Sarah was sitting at the conference table, a stack of files in front of her. "Hey, Chuck," she said when she saw him coming down the stairs. "How was work?"

"Boring," Chuck said. "Hardly any customers at all. I guess people are spooked. Although the chinchillas in the back were a high point."

"The what?" Sarah asked.

"Chinchillas. I mentioned it yesterday. Jeff and Lester have decided to get rich as chinchilla breeders. So, if you want a fur coat, I can probably get you one in, oh, eight to ten years."

"That's okay," Sarah laughed.

"So, any leads?" Chuck asked.

"Casey got the video feeds from the Buy More surveillance cameras and we've isolated and enhanced everyone entering the store. The footage was damaged, so we don't have all of it, but we'd like you to look them over and see if you flash on anyone."

Chuck sighed. This was the least glamorous part of being the Intersect: looking through pictures to see if he flashed. "Is there any coffee?" he asked Sarah.

"I just put on a fresh pot," Sarah said. "I'm going back over the police and ATF records regarding the theft of the explosives to see if they missed anything. I figured it was going to be a long night."

Chuck went over and poured himself a cup of coffee in his Buy More mug and then held up the pot to Sarah.

"Sure," she shrugged and Chuck refilled her 'My work is so secret even I don't know what I'm doing' mug that Chuck had bought her. Then Chuck sat down next to her and pulled up a monitor. Sarah reached over his shoulder to hit some commands on the keyboard and Chuck felt her brush against him. She didn't seem to notice and Chuck tried hard not to react. He did take a deep breath to draw in her scent. In some ways, this was the hardest part of his spy work: being so close to Sarah while being simultaneously so far away.

"We've also accessed the employment records for Buy More, so we'll see if you flash on any employees."

"Okay," Chuck answered, trying to get his mind on his work.

The images started to pop up on the screen. Chuck sighed and tried to concentrate on them.

Just shy of an hour later, Chuck absent-mindedly reached for his coffee cup and raised it to his lips. The cool ceramic jolted him a bit and he realized the coffee had grown cold long ago. He stretched and stood. Sarah looked up at him. "You okay?" she asked.

"Just taking a break," he said. "You wanna order some dinner?"

"What did you have…" Sarah started to say. She was interrupted by Casey bursting into the room from somewhere further back in Castle. He grabbed the remote and hit several buttons. The main monitor changed from the NSA logo to a video feed from a helicopter showing a burning store.

"Is this the footage from yesterday?" Sarah asked. "Did you find something?"

Casey shook his head and Sarah and Chuck both noticed the scrawl across the bottom of the screen. 'Pasadena: Second Southern California Buy More Explosion.'

"Oh my God," Chuck and Sarah whispered at the same time.


	3. Nerves of Jello

As always, thanks for the reviews and encouragement.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 3

Nerves of Jello

Captain Anders looked up and smiled when she saw the trio walking towards her in their FBI windbreakers. Well, to be more precise, she smiled at the eldest of the three, a man slightly younger than her. "Well hello, Agent Casey," she said in her raspy voice. "We've got to keep meeting like this."

"Captain Anders," Casey said with a slight nod of his head.

"Now, sweet-cheeks, I told you to call me Barbara," Anders said.

"You remember Agents Walker and Carmichael?" Casey said, trying to ignore her apparently favorite pet name for him. At least the scene before them had Chuck subdued, Casey thought, or he'd be having a field day with Casey meeting Anders again.

"Do you mind if we take a look?" Sarah asked.

"Go for it, blondie. I'm gonna have a word with your partner, here." That did draw a slight smile from Chuck.

Chuck and Sarah ducked under the police tape and walked toward the wreckage of the store. The blast had apparently been bigger this time. The front of the store was completely gone. The whole store was engulfed in flames and acrid black smoke. Bits of burning debris blew back toward them, making Chuck's eyes water. A fireman stepped in front of them. "We're going to have to ask you to keep back," he said. "Some of the electronics give off toxic fumes when they burn. It's going to take a while longer to get this one under control."

Chuck staggered back. This was worse than any nightmare. This was a vision of Hell. The fact that most Buy More stores followed the same pattern made it that much harder. It could be his store burning. His friends buried under the rubble or burned to a cinder in the flames. He reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Who would do this, Sarah?" he asked. "How could anyone do this?"

Sarah pulled him behind one of the fire trucks. "There are a lot of news cameras around here," she said. "We have to stay out of sight."

Chuck looked at her. "How can you be so professional at a time like this? That could be my store!"

"But it's not, Chuck," Sarah said, laying a hand on his arm. "And Casey and I will make sure that nothing like this happens to your store."

There was a rumble as one of the news helicopters swooped in for a better shot of the devastation. Chuck looked around. Behind the fire trucks, several cars were blackened from fire or peppered with debris. Every vehicle he could see, with the exception of the emergency vehicles, had all of their windows blown out and the entire parking lot glittered as the light from the fire was reflected off the little pebbles of glass from the car windows. Off to the right, the wall of the building had fallen and crushed the line of Nerd Herder cars.

Chuck looked at Sarah. She couldn't understand. It wasn't the fact that his store would be safe or even might not be a target at all. As much as he hated to admit it, the dead and injured Buy More employees were his people. He had attended training classes with some of the Nerd Herders from Northridge and Pasadena. He had undoubtedly drunk beer with some of the dead. And he had spent the morning worrying about a toy from a damn cereal box.

It took more than two hours before the fire was out and the firemen told them it was safe to go have a look. Sarah and Casey had spent the time assisting the police with interrogating potential witnesses. They had come up empty. Chuck had simply watched helplessly from behind the fire trucks as the firemen got the fire under control and then finally put it out.

The firemen were still walking through the ruins of the store, checking for hotspots, when Chuck Sarah and Casey entered. Search and Rescue had big searchlights shining on the rubble, but no one was searching for survivors. There was no point. No one could be alive in this devastation. Chuck picked his way through the rubble, no longer caring that his clothes were getting covered with soot. He came upon what looked like a blackened log and bent down to take a closer look. It was only then that he saw the teeth, the eye sockets, the hole where a nose should have been.

Chuck shrieked and darted out of the rubble. He stopped just past the line of fire trucks and promptly threw up. He stayed stooped over, heaving, until the entire contents of this stomach were gone. He felt a hand on his back. "Are you okay?" Sarah asked, her voice gentle. She handed him a handkerchief so he could wipe his mouth.

"I saw…" he gasped. "I saw…"

"It's okay," Sarah said. "I know. It's all right. I'm here."

Chuck straightened and looked at her. He expected to see contempt in her eyes for his weakness, but he saw only concern. "I can't do this, Sarah," he pleaded.

"Yes you can, Chuck," she said, laying a hand on his back. "You have to. For Morgan. And for Jeff, and Lester, and Big Mike and all the Jeffs and Lesters and Big Mikes working at the other Buy Mores."

Pain flashed in his eyes and it was reflected in hers. He could see that she really didn't want to make him go back, but she had a job to do, as did he.

He turned and, without another word, headed back into Hell.

"Over here," Casey called. Chuck, Sarah and Captain Anders picked their way through the debris to where Casey stood. He was using the toe of his boot to hold up a ruined bit of plastic just enough to see the object beneath.

"It's another GB-43," Chuck said.

"What the hell's a GB-43?" Anders asked.

"An industrial detonator," Sarah replied.

Casey turned to Anders. "I'm afraid this just officially became a federal investigation."

"Uh uh, big fella," Anders said. "Somebody is blowing up people in my town. This is _my_ investigation."

"Look," Casey said, "For reasons that are classified, this case is not under federal jurisdiction."

"You know, you're cute when the veins pop out of your neck like that," Anders said. "But until my superiors pull me from this case, it's mine and I'm not letting a bunch of snot-nosed FBI pukes take it away from me."

Chuck had a feeling he was the real 'snot-nosed FBI puke' of which she spoke, but figured it was best to let Casey and Anders hash this out. He and Sarah moved a discrete distance away and continued to look for any clues in the rubble.

"Oh my God, Chuck, where have you been?" Ellie asked when Chuck came through the front door. "Why didn't you call? I've been worried sick." Her eyes went wide. "Why do you smell like smoke?"

Chuck suppressed a moment of panic. 'Think fast, think fast, think fast.' "Big Mike sent some of us over to the fire to see if we could help out. Of course we couldn't, but we stayed to watch the firemen put it out."

Ellie sighed. "I swear, Chuck. Some times you can be so immature. Next time call, okay? I was worried sick."

"I'm, uh, gonna go take a shower," Chuck said. He shuffled toward his room. When he opened the door, he noticed a peculiar odor. He stopped and sniffed under his arms. No. A little smokey but not him. Then he heard the familiar scratching. He closed his eyes and let out a huge sigh. He stepped into the room, closed the door, and looked over at his desk. There, as he had feared, was a cage containing Romeo and Juliette, Jeff and Lester's two chinchillas.

Chuck just hung his head and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

The next morning, Ellie was adamant. "You are _not_ going to work today," she said.

"I have to, El. I'll lose my job."

"A job at Buy More is not worth dying for."

Chuck shrugged, "I can't argue with you there. But I'll be fine. Besides, I need the money. Um. Dating is expensive."

"Devon and I will give you the money," Ellie said. "I don't want you going into that store."

Chuck shook his head. "I have to, Ellie. If nothing else, I owe it to my fellow employees."

"That band of misfits?" Ellie said. "I doubt a single one of them shows up today."

"Well, then I'll be home late," he said.

Ellie wanted to argue, but she recognized the look Chuck got when he mind was definitely and firmly made up. "Just be careful," she said and gave him a bone-crushing hug.

He went outside and got behind the wheel of Nerd Herder number three, his favorite. Sure, they all looked alike, but he thought number three had a little more personality than the others. Like the way it started fine, except on Monday mornings.

His musings were interrupted by a tap on the window. "I'm going with you, Bartowski," Casey said. "From now on, we're ratcheting up the surveillance."

"What, watching me sleep wasn't enough? You going to install cameras in the bathroom now?"

Casey just grunted and climbed in the car.

Chuck's eyes went wide. "You didn't! I share that bathroom with my sister! If I find out that you've been spying on my sister in the shower…"

"What? You'll report me to my boss? Relax, Bartowski. I haven't bugged the bathroom… Yet."

Despite Casey's protestations, Chuck resolved to check for hidden cameras when he got home.

"What's that smell?" Casey asked, turning to look in the back seat. Chuck had placed the chinchilla cage with Romeo and Juliette there.

"Is that what was making the noise all night?" Casey asked.

"Yes," Chuck sighed. "They were up all night. I didn't get a wink of sleep."

"Well, join the club, Bartowski. Just get rid of those little rats."

"They're not rats, actually, they're…" He stopped when Casey gave him a look that said, 'shut up and drive.' So he shut up and drove.

If the parking lot at Buy More Plaza had seemed empty the day before, it was a veritable ghost town now. Chuck parked the Nerd Herder in its usual spot and headed into the store. When he got there and looked around, the inside of the store was as deserted as the parking lot.

Emmett was just inside the door. "Where is everybody?" Chuck asked.

"Big Mike had a family emergency in Cleveland," Emmett said.

"I didn't know Big Mike had family in Cleveland," Chuck said. "I thought he was from Pomona."

"Yes, well, so did we all. Why are you carrying rats in a cage?"

"They're chinchillas. They're Jeff and Lester's. I was, I guess, babysitting last night."

"Well, whatever. My mother's leukoplakia is acting up, so I need to leave. You're in charge, Bartowski." He turned and started to bolt for the front door.

"Wait!" Chuck yelled. "I don't have the combination to the safe. Where will I get the money to stock the registers?"

"It's not like we'll have any customers," Emmett called as the doors closed behind him.

A moment later, the doors opened again and Morgan sauntered in. "Is this sweet or what?" he asked. "No customers. The place to ourselves. And we're still getting paid. It's like Buy More heaven."

"Morgan," Chuck said. "Without customers, there are no sales. Without sales, there's no income. Without income, they can't pay their employees. And that would be you and me."

"You and me what?" came a voice from the back. Jeff was wandering toward the front of the store, Lester trailing behind.

"I was just explaining to Morgan that… You know what, never mind," Chuck said. "What are you doing?"

Lester waived a handful of pages. "Jeff and I are taking care of all the off-site installs," Lester said. "It should only take us a week or two."

"Stop!" Chuck said. He held out the cage. "Take these things."

"How can you call such sweet little animals 'things'?" Lester said. "You'll hurt their feelings.

"Well those sweet little animals kept me up all night," Chuck said. "How the hell did they get in my bedroom anyway?"

"You told us to get them out of the store," Jeff said, as if that explained everything.

"But not my house!" Chuck said. He stopped and took a deep breath. "Look. While Big Mike and Emmett are gone, you can leave them back in the Cage."

"They're in a cage," Jeff said, holding up the cage.

Chuck snatched the pages from Lester's hand. "Just get them out of my sight," he moaned.

Surprisingly, a little over half the staff showed up for work. Chuck tried to open normally, but no customers appeared. After two hours, he sent everyone but a skeleton crew home. He sent as many of his Nerd Herders as he could on off-site installs or service calls. Finally, it was just him, Morgan, Anna and Casey left in the store.

"You can leave, too, if you want, Morgan, Anna."

"Never leave your wingman," Morgan said. "I'm here for you, buddy. I laugh in the face of mortal danger."

"Morgan," Anna said. "You practically wet your pants when I found a spider at my apartment."

Morgan shuddered. "It was a big, hairy spider," Morgan said. Anna looked at Chuck held her thumb and forefinger a half inch apart. "Well, he was glaring at me."

The doors opened and Chuck looked up, but it was only Jeff and Lester. "How are the chinchillas?" Jeff asked. "Any babies yet?"

"I thought I told you to put them in the Cage?" Chuck asked.

"They were in a cage," Jeff started to say.

"Uh, uh, uh," Chuck said, holding up his hand to avoid getting into _that_ again. "They were in _their_ cage, but they were not in _the_ Cage. I found them in the home theater room."

"We left them there so they would be more comfortable," Lester said.

"There was porn playing on the television!" Chuck practically shouted.

"We were trying to get them in the mood," Jeff said.

Chuck just shook his head. "No porn in the Buy More, capiche?"

"Well, if you're going to be that way about it, Charles," Lester said. "Maybe we won't cut you in after all."

"I don't want…" Chuck started to say, his voice rising. Just then, the phone rang. Chuck picked it up. "Buy More Burbank, how may I help you?... No, I'm sorry, the manager isn't in… No, the assistant manager isn't here either… This is Chuck Bartowski, Nerd Herd Supervisor… Well, thank you, sir… That's really not… I appreciate it sir… Yes, a pleasure to talk to you, too." He hung up.

"Who was that?" Morgan asked.

"Moses Finkelstein, CEO and Founder of Buy More," Chuck said. "He's calling personally to check on all the stores. He said he's sending over a security consultant he hired."

Just then, the front doors opened and a man walked in. Chuck's face went blank and then a series of images flashed through his mind. A man trout fishing. A mountaintop fortress in ruins. A man taking an oath. The same man in the cupola of a tank. Documents in Hebrew. The man shooting several other men. A man trout fishing.

Chuck's eyes went wide.

"I gotta find Casey," he said. "Morgan, you're in charge."

"Me?" Morgan whined. "But I was gonna…" But Chuck was already gone.

Chuck found Casey in the breakroom. "Casey, Casey, Casey," Chuck said nervously. "I just flashed. We've got a customer and I don't think he's looking for home appliances."

"Who is it?" Casey asked.

"His name is Ari Schwartz. Former Captain in the Israeli Defense Forces. Currently assigned as a special operative to the Israeli Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations."

Casey stood up. "What's a Mossad agent doing here?" he asked.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Chuck said.

The breakroom lockers swung open and Sarah stepped out. "Did you know there's a Mossad agent in the Buy More?"

"No. Really?" Casey asked sarcastically. "Numbskull here just flashed."

"Why do you always have to call me names?" Chuck asked. "I don't…"

"Can it Bartowski," Casey said. He turned to Sarah. "How did you know he was Mossad?"

"I did a tour at the Mossad training facility as part of an agent exchange. Ari was an instructor."

"Ari, huh?" Casey asked. "Do a little private tutoring with the teacher?"

"Shut up, Casey," Sarah said. "He's an expert on demolitions."

"Why would a Mossad weapons expert be blowing up Buy Mores?" Chuck asked.

"Maybe Fulcrum has infiltrated Mossad," Casey offered.

"We don't know that he's the bomber," Sarah said. "If he is, why walk in here so openly?"

"To smoke us out," Casey said. "Let us know that they know we're here and force us to make a move."

"Wait," Sarah said. "We don't know he's Fulcrum and we don't know that he planted the bombs. We haven't received any intel that Fulcrum is recruiting internationally."

"So a Mossad demolitions expert just happens to wander into the Buy More where the Intersect happens to work after two other Buy Mores are bombed?" Casey asked sarcastically. "Secure the asset. I'm going to go have a talk with our 'customer.'"


	4. Mossad

Sorry for the lengthy delay between updates. I was concentrating on finishing my other story, 'Chuck versus the Decision.' It was getting a little confusing switching back and forth between the two. But the decks are cleared now and it's full steam ahead on this story.

Unfortunately, Poa, my editor, is 'off the grid' so I apologize in advance for any typos, poor grammar, idiotic plot points, etc.

So, finally, we continue with…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 4

Mossad

Ari Schwartz stood with his feet shoulder width apart and his hands clasped behind his back: classic parade rest. He was of medium height but stocky build, and his salt-and-pepper hair was close-cropped. His face was leathery and lined from years of riding atop an Israeli main battle tank while squinting at the desert sun. There was a hint of a frown on his face as he looked at the small, bearded man before him. "My name is Daniel Cohen," he said in a slight Israeli accent. "I was hired by Moses Finklestein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, as a security consultant for Buy More. I believe he telephoned to say that I would be stopping by."

Morgan was leaning against the Nerd Herd counter, with Anna by his side, regarding the man with curious eyes. "Security consultant, huh?" Morgan said. "How do I know you are who you say you are? You could be the Large Mart stooge who's blowing up Buy Mores."

"Large Mart?" Ari asked. "Do you have information that it is someone from Large Mart that is planting these explosive devices?"

"Instincts," Morgan said. "I've seen all the Bond films a half dozen times each. Well, except for the Roger Moore ones. I've watched those a few times and I never really bought him as Bond although Moonraker was kind of cool and how can you beat a name like Holly Goodhead and a henchman like Jaws? Even though the whole shuttle taking off from the back of a 747 was kind of lame."

"Excuse me," Ari interrupted. "Who is in charge of the store?"

"Um, that would be Chuck," Morgan said proudly. "And it's clearly time that his natural leadership talents were recognized by placing him in a position…"

"Where may I find this Chuck?" Ari interrupted again.

"Can I help you?" came the rumbling voice of John Casey as he strode toward the visitor.

"Are you Chuck?" Ari asked.

"Chuck stepped out for a moment," Casey said. "I'm John Casey. Perhaps I can be of some assistance. Were you looking for an appliance? Electronics? A DVD perhaps?"

"My name is Daniel Cohen. I am a security consultant hired by Moses Finklestein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, to investigate the recent bombings of the Northridge and Pasadena stores. I am making a tour of the various Buy Mores and speaking to the managers to see if anyone has any information and to get copies of the security footage from the last several days so that I can have it analyzed."

"I am afraid that the manager is out of town," Casey said.

"Then may I speak with the assistant manager?" Ari asked.

"Also unavailable," Casey replied.

"Well, if this Chuck is out, who is in charge?" Ari asked.

"Me," Casey said.

"Now wait a minute," Morgan said. "I don't want to pull rank here, but I believe that I have seniority and…"

Casey glared at him and Morgan quickly turned to Anna. "Let's go check out the Home Theater Room," Morgan said. Ari watched him go with a raised eyebrow.

"Now," Casey said. "Do you have some kind of identification?"

Ari reached into his jacket and Casey tensed. He slowly removed a wallet and pulled out a business card and a California driver's license. "I am afraid this is the best I can do," he said. "Didn't Mr. Finklestein call to say that I was coming?"

"Wait here," Casey said. He walked over to Big Mike's office and pressed the code on the telephone that rung the Castle. Sarah answered the phone.

"Walker. I've got a California driver's license in the name of David Cohen, license number 5559784 and a business card for Competition Security Consultants."

"Just a minute," Sarah said. There was a pause. "Okay. Driver's license checks out, but that doesn't mean much. Let's see, Joint Intelligence Database says that Competition Security Consultants is a front organization for Mossad."

"Does Schwartz have clearance to operate in the U.S.?" Casey asked.

"Not according to Beckman. But she doesn't want to pull the plug on this until she can consult with Mossad and see why one of their agents is poking around L.A. Go ahead and cooperate for now, but he is not to have access to me or the Intersect."

"Roger that." Casey hung up the phone and stepped out of Big Mike's office. There was no sign of Schwartz.

Casey picked up his price scanner with the gun hidden inside and started to walk slowly around the store, looking for Schwartz. As he neared the back, he heard voices he quickly recognized as Jeff and Lester.

"So, security consultant, huh?" Lester was saying. "Does that pay well?"

"You ever get to shoot anyone?" Jeff asked. "Cause I could definitely shoot someone."

"No one would every trust you with a gun, you cretin," Lester replied.

Casey rounded the corner to see Jeff, Lester and Schwartz standing in front of the security panel. Schwartz was once again at parade rest but Casey could see the muscles in his back flexing, no doubt as he contemplated the best way to kill Jeff and Lester. Casey briefly considered letting him, decided there would be too much paperwork involved, and cleared his throat.

Jeff, Lester and Schwartz all turned to look at him. Jeff and Lester with a look of equal parts annoyance and fear; Schwartz with a look of relief. "We were, ah, showing him where the security footage was," Lester said. Casey grunted and Lester slapped Jeff on the arm. "We, ah, better go check on the chinchillas," Lester said and then hurried away.

Casey handed back the driver's license and card. "You check out," he said.

Schwartz accepted the driver's license but waived away the card. "Keep it," he said. "If you spot any unusual activity around the store, you can give me a call."

Casey slipped the card in his pocket while Schwartz slipped a blank disk into the security system and then typed in the commands to copy the security footage to the disk. "You're ex-military," Schwartz said without turning around.

Casey looked at him, appraisingly. "Yeah."

"What are you doing working at a Buy More?" Schwartz asked.

"Making a living," Casey answered.

Schwartz turned to look at him. There was an enigmatic smile on his face. "How long are we going to do this dance, Agent Casey?"

"Excuse me?" Casey asked.

"Major John Casey, United States Marine Corps. Seconded to the National Security Agency. Current assignment – apparently working at a Buy More in Burbank. Kind of a waste of material, it seems to me, but who am I to second guess General Diane Beckman?"

Casey pulled the top of the price gun he was holding and the unmistakable click of a slide pulling back filled the small closet where they were.

"Now, Agent Casey, is that any way to treat a representative of an allied intelligence organization?"

"It is when the agent is working off grid and doesn't have authorization to operate in the alleged allied country. Let's have it."

"Have what, Agent Casey?"

"Whatever piece you're packing."

"Now, Agent Casey, you wouldn't want me to yell out and have your fellow employees come running to see what was happening, would you? I would hate to blow your cover like that."

"Yeah, I see your point," Casey said with a shrug. "Get your disk."

Schwartz turned to get the disk with the security feed out of the machine. Casey swung the price scanner and wacked the back of Schwartz's head. Schwartz crumpled to the floor. "Oops."

Chuck's eyes went wide as he saw Casey struggling down the stairs from the Buy More breakroom with a body slung over his shoulders. "Oh my God, Casey," Chuck gasped. "Is he…"

"No, moron, he's not dead," Casey snarled. "He just decided to take a little nap." He stepped into one of the holding cells and dropped the unconscious Mossad agent unceremoniously onto the cot. Casey immediately started to frisk him and came up with two guns, a knife, and a wallet.

"So decided to add 'mugger' to your resume, have you?" Chuck asked.

Casey grunted and stepped out of the room. He keyed in a code in the keypad at the door and the door slid shut. "Where's Walker?" he asked.

"There were some customers at the Orange Orange. She had to go take care of them," Chuck replied. "What did you do?"

Casey ignored Chuck and secured the weapons, then started to go through the wallet. He found two hundred and fifty three dollars in US currency; a California driver's license in the name of David Cohen; two credit cards, also in the name of David Cohen; a health insurance card; several of the Competition Security Consultant business cards; and a health club membership card.

Casey examined the empty wallet for a moment, then pulled out a knife and started slicing into the leather.

"Casey!" Chuck exclaimed. "What are you doing? That's his wallet!"

Casey ignored Chuck and continued slicing the wallet open. He reached inside and pulled out a small electronic device and held it up.

Chuck's eyes glazed over and his expression grew slack. Casey looked up at him and grunted. Bartowski always looks like such a goober when he was flashing. "That's a…" Chuck started to say.

"I know," Casey interrupted. "IB-99 tracker. Standard Mossad issue." He dropped the device on the floor and brought his heel down sharply. There was a small 'crack' as the device shattered. Casey reached down and picked up the several pieces of the device and dropped them on the table.

The door from the Orange Orange opened and Sarah came down the stairs. "Casey, what are you doing here? Where's Ari?"

Casey gave a jerk of his head to indicate the holding cell. Sarah rushed down the stairs and over to the holding cell. She keyed in the code to unlock the door and rushed to Schwartz's side. She took his pulse, then examined his head. She looked down at the small bit of blood on her fingers. "Casey, what part of 'cooperate' didn't you understand?"

"I didn't have a choice," Casey said. "He made me and threatened to blow my cover. At least I didn't kill him."

"Well, thank heaven for small favors," Sarah said angrily. She went to the small room that acted as their infirmary and got out the first aid kit. Then she went back to Schwartz and began to tend to his head wound. Schwartz moaned and Sarah pulled out a small syringe and filled it from a vial in the med kit. Chuck, who had been watching Sarah closely, turned away. He hated needles. Sarah expertly administered the shot to Schwartz and then locked the cell door and put away the med kit.

She returned to the table where Casey was examining the remains of Schwartz's wallet. "We need to call this in," she said, hands on hips.

Casey frowned. He obviously wasn't looking forward to explaining this to General Beckman. But Casey always believed that the best defense was a preemptive nuclear strike. "What's the matter, Walker?" Casey asked. "Afraid I hurt your old boyfriend?"

"Back off, Casey," Sarah said. "Ari has a wife and two teenage sons."

Casey started to reply, but Sarah pushed past him and activated the communications system.

Chuck sometimes wondered whether Beckman simply sat in her office waiting for their calls. Beckman's face immediately appeared on the screen.

"Agent Walker?"

"General, I'm a afraid we have a bit of a situation," Sarah said.

"What did Chuck do this time?" Beckman asked. Casey snorted and Chuck gave him a dirty look.

"Why do you immediately assume I did something?" Chuck asked.

"Past experience," Beckman deadpanned. "What did you do?"

"Ma'am," Sarah cut in. "This actually doesn't involve Chuck." She took a deep breath. "I'm afraid Agent Casey…"

"Neutralized an enemy agent who recognized me and threatened to compromise my cover at the Buy More," Casey cut in. Sarah shot him a dirty look.

"Enemy agent?" Beckman said, alarmed. "Fulcrum?"

"Possibly," Casey said.

"General," Sarah cut in. "Casey cold-cocked Ari Schwartz, the Mossad agent I told you about a little while ago."

"He what?" Beckman exploded. She fixed her gaze on Casey and Chuck was glad this was one of those rare situations where he was not the one on the receiving end of the General's wrath. "Major, is this true? Where is Schwartz now?"

"We have him locked in the one of the holding cells here in Castle," Casey said.

"He was starting to come around, so I gave him a sedative," Sarah said. "I don't believe that he saw where he was."

Beckman appeared to be trying to control her anger. "So let me get this straight, Major," Beckman said. "You attacked a Mossad agent in the Buy More, rendered him unconscious, and now you have him held prisoner in Castle."

Casey looked down at his feet, then back up at the General. "Well, I don't know that I would put it quite that way."

Beckman rolled her eyes. Chuck was actually enjoying this little bit of verbal ping pong. As much as Casey liked to torment him, there was a little bit of schadenfreude in witnessing Casey's dressing down.

"I just got off the phone with Meir Dagan, the Director of Mossad. He confirmed that Ari Schwartz is one of theirs, but he is on leave to assist with a security problem in the United States at the request of one Moses Finkelstein, the CEO and Founder of Buy More."

"Ma'am," Sarah said. "Mossad agents don't take a leave of absence to do free-lance security work."

"I am well aware of that, Agent Walker. There is obviously some other agenda going on here. I want you to find out what it is."

"So you think he might be Fulcrum?" Sarah asked.

"We have no intelligence that Fulcrum has infiltrated Mossad, but I am not discounting any possibility at this point."

"So you are rescinding your earlier instructions that I am not to have any contact with Agent Schwartz?"

"That is correct, Agent Walker. At this point, we have to do what we can to salvage the operation." She gave Casey a pointed look, and then turned back to Sarah. "Perhaps because of your previous relationship with Agent Schwartz he may give you additional information."

Casey almost grunted at the mention of a 'previous relationship,' but decided he was in enough trouble as it was, so he maintained his stoic expression. Instead, he asked, "What about Bartowski? Shouldn't we avoid exposing his connection with this operation?"

Beckman nodded. "Good point, Major. Do not allow any contact between Bartowski and Agent Schwartz."

Chuck took a step forward, toward the screen. "But General," Chuck said. "Either this Agent Schwartz or so someone else is targeting the Buy Mores. I want to assist in this mission. Please, General, I want to help."

"And we are counting on your assistance with this mission, Mr. Bartowski. But I do not want your identity exposed to Agent Schwartz, is that clear?"

Chuck sighed.

"What was that, Mr. Bartowski?"

"Yes, General," Chuck said.

Sarah glanced over at him. 'Not a chance in hell,' she thought. Chuck would find some way to 'accidentally' bump into Ari and see what he could find out. This mission hit too close to home for Chuck not to wade into it up to his eyeballs. She would have to keep a close eye on him.

"If there isn't anything else, I am late for another meeting," Beckman said.

"No, General," Chuck, Sarah and Casey said together, and Beckman cut the connection.

Sarah turned to Chuck. "Why don't you head back up the Buy More," she said. "They're going to be wondering where you are."

Chuck opened his mouth and sucked in a breath as if he was about to protest, but closed it again and, with slumped shoulders, headed back to the passage to the Buy More breakroom.

"You go, too, Casey," Sarah said. "I don't want you here when Ari wakes up. He'll be easier to deal with if the man who cold-cocked him isn't here."

"You sure you can handle him?" Casey asked.

Sarah frowned and narrowed her eyes. Casey recognized that look and said quickly, "I'll go keep an eye on Bartowski." Then he hurried to follow Chuck.

Now alone in Castle, except for their guest/prisoner, Sarah pulled up a chair where she could keep an eye on Ari's cell while she went through some paperwork.


	5. How to Make Friends and Influence People

See, I didn't lie. It didn't take a month for an update this time.

Poa is still off grid, so you're stuck with my poor typing and grammar.

So without further ado, we continue with…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 5

How to Win Friends and Influence People

Ari Schwartz fought his way back to consciousness. This wasn't the first time he had been knocked unconscious. In fact, he had lost count of the number of times he had been beaten, bruised and battered into unconsciousness. As such things went this one wasn't quite so bad. It felt like he was lying on something fairly soft and he wasn't freezing or boiling. As he blinked his eyes to try and shake off the fog that enveloped his brain like cotton, he thought he heard his name. Not his cover name, but his real name.

He groaned a little. It never hurt to let your captors think you were in more distress than you actually were. His mouth was dry and pasty and he smacked his lips. "Here," a soft voice said and a hand gently cupped the back of his head to gently raised him up and put a cup to his lips. He blinked and shook his head. No telling what they were giving him.

"It's all right, Ari, it's water," the voice said, pressing the cup again to his lips. He mentally shrugged. If they were going to kill him or drug him, they could have done it easily while he was out. He took a sip. It was cold and refreshing, so he struggled up a little to drink greedily. The cup was pulled away. "Not too much all at once," the soft voice said.

Ari blinked again and his vision started to clear. He saw the hazy outline of a woman with blonde hair hovering over him. "Rachel?" he mumbled. "Rachel?"

"No, it's not Rachel," the voice said. "Ari, it's me. Rebecca. Rebecca Meyerson."

"Becca?" he asked, blinking. Slowly, the hazy face resolved into a very lovely young woman with blonde hair. He knew her. Rebecca 'Becca' Meyerson. Of course that was not her real name. That was the name she used while on an exchange with the Mossad training academy. He had never known her real name.

Ari struggled to sit up and his head started pounding. Rebecca put a hand on his chest and pressed him back down. "Here," she said, putting two tablets in his hand. "It's all right. It's aspirin."

Ari popped the tablets in his mouth and accepted more water from Rebecca. "My son Yitzhak is going to be disappointed that it was I who I saw you instead of him. He had a huge crush on you, you know."

Rebecca smiled. "I know. I tried to let him down easy. He was a little young for me."

"And I was too old," Ari said.

"No," Rebecca said. "If you would have tried anything, Rachel would have recircumcised you a little further up this time."

Ari laughed and again struggled up. His head throbbed but he was not about to show weakness in front of this little girl. He looked around at the glass wall behind her and the other cells lining a corridor. "Where am I?" he asked. "Where is Major Casey?"

"So you remember," Rebecca said. "You're still in Los Angeles, if that's what you're wondering. You are in a secure CIA facility."

"Am I a prisoner?" Ari asked.

"Let's say that for now you are a guest, until I can determine why one of Mossad's best agents and certainly their most competent demolitions expert is off grid and operating in L.A. without authorization."

"Becca. You know I can't tell you anything."

Rebecca shrugged. "Then you're going to have a long stay. I'll call Tel Aviv and tell them to dispatch a diplomatic team to escort you back to Israel. I imagine I can arrange transport in, oh, three or four days."

Ari smiled. "I always said that they should have kept you on as an instructor in interrogation," Ari said. He looked around. "What is to keep me from overpowering you and walking out of here?" he asked.

Rebecca stood and smiled down at him. "The fact that I was the best Krav Maga student at the Academy," she said. "And that even before Mossad trained me I could take down any two of your agents."

"Still modest, I see. But I am old and crafty."

"And the door is locked and you don't know the code."

Ari chuckled. "Checkmate. For now. I take it you are not going by Becca Meyerson these days?"

"Sarah Walker," Sarah a/k/a Rebecca said, holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

"David Cohen," Ari said, taking her hand. "Why are you wearing an apron that says 'Orange Orange'?"

"My cover," Sarah said. "I'm working at a yogurt shop."

"And Major John Casey, the NSA's top assassin, is working at a Buy More. I will never understand the American intelligence agencies. Please, sit. Do you have to hover over me like that?"

Sarah smiled and pulled up a chair. "So what brings you to L.A., Ari?"

"Please, David. Mossad worked very hard on that cover identity. I need to make the most of it."

"Fine, David, what brings you to L.A.?"

"The bombings at the area Buy Mores," Ari said. "Just as I told Major Casey. And just as I am sure my superiors informed your General Beckman."

"Mossad agents do not free lance… David. And you said Mossad provided your identity."

"Well, Mossad could not exactly have me traipsing around the U.S. as Ari Schwartz, Mossad Agent, could they?"

"You're avoiding the question, David."

"See," Ari said, wagging his finger at her. "A born interrogator. Since you are the good cop, I assume that Major Casey is the bad cop?" He rubbed the back of his head to emphasize his point.

Sarah shook her head. "Do you want me to be the bad cop?" she asked. "I can do that, too. Answers, Ari." She emphasized his name to show that she was tired of his dancing around the subject.

Ari shrugged. "I guess it cannot hurt to tell you. You might even be able to help. We received a report that the detonator used in the first bombing was a GB-43, manufactured by Goodville Burdette. The signature detonator of Red Jihad."

"So Mossad is worried that Red Jihad is behind these bombings," Sarah said. "Why would Red Jihad want to blow up a few Southern California electronics stores?"

Ari shrugged. "I was hoping you could tell me."

"Just because they used GB-43's, that's a pretty flimsy excuse for thinking that it was Red Jihad," Sarah said. "There's something else. Something you're not telling me."

Ari wagged his finger again. "A born interrogator, I tell you. You know, it reminds me of…"

"Ari," Sarah interrupted him. "What aren't you telling me?"

"You cannot blame an old man for trying to spend as long with a pretty girl as possible," Ari said.

"First, you're not an old man," Sarah said. "And second, you keep that up and I'll call Rachel."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

Ari sighed. "You know, she would probably like to hear from you. It has been what? Three years?"

"Ari!" Sarah said sharply.

"Fine, fine," Ari said. "After Goodville Burdette went bankrupt, their inventory was purchased by Hancock Technologies. The entire run of GB-43's was destroyed."

"The ATF was checking into the remaining GB-43's," Sarah said. "But they didn't have anything yet."

"We already had the information," Ari said. "After Red Jihad started using the GB-43's as their signature detonator, we ran a worldwide trace and bought up and destroyed every one that we could find."

"Seems like a lot of trouble," Sarah said. "Didn't they just switch to another model detonator?"

"They seemed to have a particular penchant for the GB-43's. Besides, as it turned out they did not have to," Ari said. "Red Jihad stole a shipment of one hundred forty-four detonators. One hundred and two were used in terrorist attacks in Israel, Lebanon, Greece and Germany, leaving forty-two unaccounted for when Abdul Al Fayed, the head of the Palestinian wing of Red Jihad, was captured and jailed."

"So someone else got a hold of their remaining stockpile," Sarah said.

"Maybe," Ari responded. "But it seems like too much of a coincidence. You see, seven weeks ago, an Israeli patrol in Northern Israel along the border with Lebanon was attacked. Three men were killed and seven taken prisoner. Three weeks ago, Abdul Al Fayed was traded for those seven Israeli soldiers."

"I thought Israel didn't bargain with terrorists."

"One of the soldiers was the son of a Likud member. There was some pressure brought to effectuate the release."

"So you think that Abdul Al Fayed is blowing up California Buy Mores? That still doesn't make sense."

Ari shrugged. "That is why I am here. To see if I can determine if it is Al Fayed and, if it is, stop him."

"You mean kill him," Sarah said.

Ari spread his hands. "If it is him, I will stop him by any means necessary."

"Why didn't you come to us? Obtain clearance to operate in the U.S.?"

"Because the operation would have been turned over to the FBI or the ATF. I would have been frozen out or, at best, kept on as a 'consultant.' Becca, this man killed hundreds of innocent people. He never should have been let loose. _We_ let him loose. _We_ will stop him."

"Sarah," Sarah said. "Not Becca. You need to remember that." She stood. "I need to report this. I'm afraid you're going to be our 'guest' for a little longer."

"Would you at least call Rachel and tell her where I am?" Ari asked. "She tends to worry."

Sarah smiled. "And Rachel's first call would be to Meir Dagan to let him know where you are." She shook her head. "But I will have the CIA get word to Rachel that you are okay."

Ari shrugged. "Worth a shot," he said.

Sarah turned to the door and punched in the code to open the door. The panel scanned her retina and then opened the door. Ari noted that the only time her back was to him was to hide the code she punched into the keypad. And even then, her muscles were tensed just in case he decided to try to make a move. He shook his head. Too bad she hadn't accepted Mossad's offer to stay on as an agent.

Sarah walked to the communications terminal and contacted Beckman to update her on what Ari had said about the GB-43's, Red Jihad and Abdul Al Fayed. Beckman was not happy about having an unsanctioned Mossad operation on U.S. soil and told Sarah to hold Ari until she could get everything sorted out.

Sarah had just cut the connection when the door to Castle from the Orange Orange opened. The first thing she saw was a pair of Converse All Stars and she broke into an involuntary smile. Of course Chuck couldn't stay away.

Chuck trotted down the stairs holding three brown paper bags in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other. He broke into a grin when he saw Sarah. "Beware Geeks bearing gifts," he said.

"I thought you were a nerd?" Sarah asked. "Isn't that what you told me that first day when we met?"

Chuck gave a relaxed sigh and Sarah could see that he was remembering the day they met when she walked into the Buy More to 'get her phone fixed.'

"Well, the play on words doesn't work quite so well that way," he said. "Beware Nerds bearing gifts? Doesn't roll off the tongue or have quite the same panache."

"So what gifts is the nerd bringing?"

Chuck set his bags and tray of drinks down on the table. "Well, I figured if Ari was Mossad, he'd probably want kosher, so I sent Skip over to Lou's to get us dinner."

"So what did you get me?" Sarah said, unable to keep the smile on her face from growing.

"Turkey and Muenster cheese on egg bread, grilled," Chuck said.

Sarah laughed. "You got me a Chuck?"

"Well, to be honest, she doesn't call it that anymore," Chuck said. "Not since… anyway, I didn't think you'd ever had one and it's really good."

Sarah leaned over and kissed Chuck on the cheek. "Thank you, Chuck. This was very thoughtful."

Chuck blushed and tried hard not to grin, but failed miserably. "Shall I take Ari his sandwich?" Chuck asked.

Sarah shook her head. "Nice try, Chuck, but you're supposed to stay away from Ari."

"Come on, Sarah, I've never met a real Mossad agent," Chuck said.

Sarah gave him an enigmatic smile. "Yes you have."

"I have? What… Where… Who…"

Sarah just smiled and said, "Wait here." She took the bag and a drink and went back to the cell to give it to Ari. She returned a few moments later.

"He says 'thank you.'" Sarah said. "He said we run the nicest jail he's ever been in. With the best food."

"Do you think he's been in many jails?" Chuck rambled. "I mean, he's a Mossad agent. And what did you mean by 'yes you have.' I…"

Sarah laid a finger over Chuck's lips and he sputtered to a halt. "Why this fascination with Ari?" Sarah asked.

"Well, Mossad just seems really cool," Chuck said. "I mean, other than MI-6, which everybody knows thanks to James Bond, they're probably the most respected intelligence service in the world. Ever since I saw Spielberg's movie 'Munich' I have been kind of intrigued by them. They're the best of the best."

"Much better than the CIA," Sarah deadpanned.

"Yeah," Chuck said. "Did you know that…" He suddenly realized what he had just said and skidded to a verbal stop. "I mean…"

Sarah took a bite of her sandwich and cocked her head a little to the side and smiled as she chewed.

"I think I'll stop talking now," Chuck said.

Sarah swallowed and said, "That's probably best." Her grin told him she wasn't really offended.

They ate in contented silence, Chuck stealing the occasional besotted glance at Sarah and Sarah glancing over at Chuck and smiling. Sarah sighed contentedly as she finished her sandwich. The Bartowski magic really was remarkable. She had never been around anyone who could make her so comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. Comfortable because they had settled into that relaxed compatibility where they were happy to simply be in each other's presence. Uncomfortable because of the undeniable attraction they each felt for the other, but which they were not allowed to act upon.

"Penny for your thoughts," Chuck said and Sarah realized she had been gazing off into the distance with a slight smile on her face.

Sarah blinked and looked at Chuck. "Oh, I was just thinking about what Casey's going to say when he finds out that Mossad is way cooler than the NSA."

Chuck's eyes went wide. "You… You wouldn't."

Sarah's smile slowly morphed into a smirk. "Well, that depends, Mr. Bartowski, on what it's worth to you."

"Blackmail, Agent Walker?" Chuck said. "Frankly, I thought you were above that sort of thing."

"Beneath me?" Sarah replied. "Why, it's a major tool of the trade."

Chuck sighed in mock resignation. "So what'll it cost me this time? Letting you pick the movie for Ellie's next movie night? Sweeping out the Orange Orange freezer?"

Sarah shook her head. Something most people did not know about Charles Bartowski was that he had incredibly strong fingers. Maybe it was a consequence of all that time manipulating video game controllers. In any event, Sarah had accidently discovered the strength of those fingers after her first back rub from Chuck. The man, it turned out, was a master. His strong hands with their long fingers could manipulate her tired muscles better than anything short of a professional masseur, and he might even beat the masseur.

Sarah gave an exaggerated roll of her shoulders. "I've been feeling a little tight lately," she said.

Chuck grinned and stepped around behind her. He stood so close Sarah could feel the warmth of his body. He gently gathered up her hair and laid it over her shoulder. Then he laid his hands on her shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. Sarah sighed and Chuck began to work his thumbs into the knotted muscles in her shoulders. Sarah closed her eyes and took in a deep breath and then slowly let it out. God but he was good. She felt the tension slowly easing away as Chuck slowly worked his thumbs along either side of her spine. She gave a little contended groan and Chuck responded by deepening the massage.

Sarah sighed again. She knew she shouldn't be doing this. In many ways, this was the most dangerous thing she had done in weeks. Chuck's presence was intoxicating and his touch seemed to burn into her. As he began to work the muscles in the back of her neck, Sarah leaned back until she was leaning against him. It was such exquisite torture.

Chuck was in heaven. Chuck had given plenty of back rubs. Back when she was in med school, before she met Captain Awesome, Chuck used to give Ellie back rubs to help ease away the tension of class and studying. Jill had loved his back rubs and he had progressed with her to giving full body massages. But nothing compared to giving Sarah a massage.

The first time was at his apartment. Sarah had casually complained about a crick in her neck and Ellie had gushed about Chuck's wonderful back rubs. Sarah had been reluctant, but Ellie had insisted and it would have looked funny if a 'boyfriend' didn't give his 'girlfriend' a back rub. So he had. For days afterwards Morgan would catch him staring off into space and grinning as he contemplated the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers and the way her stray wisps of blonde hair would tickle his knuckles.

After that, he kept a careful watch for a roll of her shoulders or a stretch of her neck indicating that she was sore or tense and he would come up behind her and gently lay his hands upon her shoulders, waiting for her to give him a slight nod indicating that he should continue. He was always careful to keep it strictly a massage. His hands never strayed too low or too far forward, although it took tremendous effort to keep from caressing her slender waist or sliding a hand ever so slightly forward to feel the swell of her breast. But he knew that as long as he kept it strictly platonic, she would allow him to continue. It was the most exquisite torture in the world.

The door from the Orange Orange banged open and Chuck jumped back. Sarah leapt to her feet and started to grab the bags and napkins from their impromptu dinner while Chuck scrambled to the other side of the table.

Casey leaned over the railing and looked down. "You mean you got dinner from Lou's Deli and you didn't get me any?"


	6. Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO

**Poa** is still off grid, so you're stuck with my poor typing and grammar.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 6

Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More

Chuck was still cursing Casey's entrance into Castle as he trudged up the stairs to head back to the Buy More. With Big Mike and Emmett both AWOL, he was in charge. Morgan was holding the fort to allow his dinner with Sarah but no one in their right mind left Morgan in charge for too long.

Fortunately, several people from the evening shift had actually shown up, so he was able to send Jeff, Lester, and Anna home. 'Home' being a relative term since he was sure that Jeff and Lester were over at Bennigans and so far Anna had refused to leave Morgan's side. "Hey, Buddy," Chuck said to Morgan when he entered the store. "Any customers while I was gone?"

"No," Morgan replied. "But the phone has been ringing off the hook. Caller i.d. said Buy More Corporate so I didn't answer."

Chuck nodded. It was probably best if Morgan didn't talk to the Buy More brass. "Listen, Morgan, no need for you to stay," Chuck said. "I appreciate your holding down the fort while I got dinner."

"And how is Sarah?" Morgan asked. "She's not too freaked out by this whole bombing thing, is she? I mean, no offense Chuck, but sometimes Sarah seems like kind of a shrinking violet, if you know what I mean. She got really freaked out by the whole armed gunman at Christmas thing."

"Yeah Morgan, she's okay. Thanks for asking. I mean, she's a little nervous, but she understands the need for me to man the store. I think she appreciated dinner, though. She's working on some paperwork or something over at the Orange Orange, so she's working late, too."

"You sure you don't want me to stick around? You know, keep an eye out for any suspicious looking characters? Large Mart goons?"

"No, buddy," Chuck said slapping Morgan on the shoulder. "You and Anna go on. I've got it covered."

"Hey Anna!" Morgan called. Anna came out of the Home Theater Room, yawning. Apparently she had been napping while waiting for Morgan.

"Hey Morgan," she said. "You ready to go?"

Morgan nodded. "Tomorrow, Chuckles," Anna said as she and Morgan left the store.

Chuck did a walk-around of the store. Skip and Terrance, the two Nerd Herders on duty, were manning the Nerd Herd desk while they played World of Warcraft on the Herder computers. The two Green Shirts he had left, Barry and Roxanne, were playing Wii bowling using the video wall. Both were breaches of Buy More corporate policy, but Chuck was happy enough to have warm bodies that he wasn't going to complain. He wandered into the back and checked on the chinchillas. They were happily gnawing on some carrots. Chuck made a mental note to talk to Jeff and Lester about cleaning their cage. It was starting to stink. Okay, stink worse.

Rounds complete, he made his way back to the front of the store and looked longingly over at the Orange Orange. He was just about to make another round of the store, from shear boredom rather than any real need, when a long, black limousine slowed to a stop in front of the store. The driver got out and jogged around to the back door. He pulled it open and stood at a posture resembling attention.

A man climbed out of the back of the limo. He looked to be in his sixties, with a high forehead and white hair. He had a stern face and wore a dark green suit with a white shirt and yellow tie. Even without the suit, Chuck would have recognized him immediately. After all, his face graced the Buy More Employee of the Month Board and, before Harry Tang made assistant manager and ended the Employee of the Month program, Chuck had been pretty much the uncontested Employee of the Month every month.

"Oh my gosh," Chuck gasped. He ran back to the back of the store and yelled at the other employees. "Code Red. Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More is here! Skip, act like you're working on something important. Terrance, go hide the chinchillas. He looked over at his green shirts. "Get Wii bowling off the video wall and act like you're restocking the shelves."

Chuck hurried back to the front of the store just as the doors open and The Man himself walked into the store. He was trailed by a rather dour looking young woman in a severe business suit, her hair in a very tight bun.

"Mr. Finkelstein," Chuck said. "Welcome to the Burbank Buy More. I'm Chuck Bartowski, Nerd Herd Supervisor. How can I help you?" He was a little disappointed that his voice cracked when he said 'help', making him sound like he was twelve, but Mr. Finkelstein didn't seem to notice.

Mr. Finkelstein held out his hand. "Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. A pleasure to meet you, young man. You're the one I spoke to on the phone, correct?"

Chuck nodded. "Yes sir. I had the honor." 'Great,' Chuck thought. 'You sound like a kiss-ass. That's Emmett's job.' "What, can I do for you, sir?"

Mr. Finkelstein glanced around the store. "You know, you're one of the few stores that is even open today. Most couldn't field enough employees to even open the doors. I'm impressed, young man, and I'm not a man easily impressed."

"Well, sir, the credit goes to our manager, Big Mike. He inspires loyalty and dedication among his staff," Chuck said.

"Bullshit," Mr. Finkelstein replied.

"Um, excuse me?" Chuck asked.

"Bullshit," Mr. Finkelstein repeated. "Michael's a hell of a guy but he couldn't inspire a bunch of Boy Scouts to raid a Girl Scout Camp. Still, despite it all and for reasons I can't explain, this branch seems to do better than any of my other stores… except of course Beverly Hills, the flagship store."

"I, ah, see sir," Chuck replied. He found that hard to believe and secretly wondered whether the CIA was cooking the Buy More books to keep someone in charge who wouldn't ask too many question. Well, actually, in Big Mike's case any questions at all.

Mr. Finkelstein slapped Chuck on the back. "First rule of management, son. Always take credit." Chuck winced at the slap and thought, 'Well I'll be damned. Big Mike didn't make that up on his own after all. Must be in the Buy More manager handbook.' "Where is Michael?" Mr. Finkelstein asked.

"Um, he had a family emergency in Cleveland," Chuck replied.

"I see. I didn't know Michael had family in Cleveland," Mr. Finkelstein replied. "Oh well, where's that toady, Everette Millbarge?"

Chuck managed not to grin. Emmett would be devastated to know that Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, didn't even know his name. "His, ah, mother was sick."

Mr. Finkelstein slapped Chuck on the back again. "Well, bully for you for stepping up and manning the gates," he said. He looked around. "Any customers today?"

Chuck shook his head sadly. "Well, we had one elderly lady wander in, but it turned out she was just looking for a rest room. Once she realized where she was, she shrieked and ran back out."

Mr. Finkelstein sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised. Ah well, we'll just have to implement Operation Even More."

Chuck thought about that for a moment. "Cut prices thirty percent and do a media blitz?" Chuck asked.

Mr. Finkelstein smiled and nodded. "Smart boy. But we'll only cut prices twenty percent. Don't want to cut too far into the profit margin. How long have you worked here?"

"About seven years, sir," Chuck replied.

"Why aren't you in management?" Mr. Finkelstein asked. "You've got a good head on your shoulders."

Chuck thought about it for a moment. Finally, he decided that honesty – at least partial honesty – was the best policy. "To be honest, sir, and I hope you won't take offense, but it's because I can't see spending the rest of my life here at the Buy More. I recently finished my degree at Stanford and…"

"Say no more, say no more," Mr. Finkelstein said, holding up a hand. "A man with ambitions. I like that. I like that very much. And I like your initiative, taking care of the store when the manager and assistant manager are AWOL."

"Thank you, sir."

"I'm going to be keeping my eye on you, Bartowski is it?"

"Yes sir. Chuck Bartowski."

Moses Finkelstein. CEO and Founder of Buy More turned to the woman standing a step behind him. "Make a note of that, Amelia. Chuck Bartowski. Nerd Herd Supervisor. Burbank Store."

"Yes sir," the severe young woman said. Chuck turned to really look at the woman. The sleeve of her blouse had pulled up a little and he saw a zigzag shaped scar on her wrist. Suddenly, he felt that familiar nausea. His eyes went slack and he saw a flash of images. A fig tree. A woman in a U.S. Army uniform. That same woman in a karate gi taking down four assailants. The woman shooting a pistol on a firing range. A file marked 'honorable discharge.' A fig tree.

"Are you all right, son?" Mr. Finkelstein asked.

"Oh, ah, yes sir. Burrito for dinner." He tapped the side of his fist against his stomach. "Kind of repeats on you."

Mr. Finkelstein nodded. "Better to lay off the burritos. The body is a temple, Mr. Bartowski. Best to remember that."

"Yes, sir," Chuck nodded.

"Anyway," Mr. Finkelstein continued. "On to business. I'm looking for David Cohen, our security consultant. He was on his way to this store to check it out and pull the security footage and now he's disappeared."

Chuck winced again. David Cohen a/k/a Ari Schwartz was currently about twenty feet directly below Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. "He, ah, was here earlier, but he left and said something about checking perimeter security or something like that. I really didn't understand what he was talking about."

Mr. Finkelstein frowned. "Hmm. Very strange. He's not answering his cell phone." He half-turned his head to his assistant. "Contact Competition Security. Have them send a detail here to the Burbank store."

"Yes sir," Amelia answered.

"Mr. Bartowski, I am having my security consultants send a detail to watch this store. Please extend them every courtesy."

Chuck nodded. "Of course, sir. It will be my pleasure."

"And if you see Mr. Cohen, have him contact me immediately."

"Yes sir. Immediately, sir," Chuck replied.

Moses Finkelstein, CEO and Founder of Buy More held out his hand. "Mr. Bartowski, keep up the good work. I've got my eye on you, young man."

'Great,' Chuck thought. 'Just what I need. Another set of eyes on me.' "Yes sir. Thank you, sir," he said, noting the very firm grip of Mr. Finkelstein's handshake. Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, turned and strode back out of the store, his assistant Amelia trailing a step behind.

"Oh boy," Chuck muttered. He turned to see Skip staring wide-eyed after the departing figure and noticed Skip's eyes shift to the assistant and then track down to her rather shapely calves. Chuck shook his head. "Skip, watch the store for a minute. I, ah, feel the need for some frozen yogurt."

Skip nodded knowingly. "Gotcha," he said with a grin. "Frozen yogurt."

Chuck rolled his eyes and hurried out of the store. The limo, fortunately, was gone. He dashed over to the Orange Orange and practically ran back into the freezer and down into Castle.

Sarah was sitting at the conference table. "Sarah!" he started.

"I saw," Sarah said. "You handled that well, Chuck. I have a call into General Beckman to report this."

"But did you know that Finkelstein's assistant is Amelia Forbes, former U.S. Army Special Forces? Honorably discharged in 2006?"

"Really?" Sarah said. "Interesting. She must be his bodyguard. It's not unusual for former Special Forces or black ops to go into private security and wealthy individuals often have a security detail. Interesting that his is disguised as his personal assistant, though. I'll run a check on her."

"Sarah," Chuck said, changing the subject slightly. "If they send a security team…"

"Relax, Bartowski," Casey said, emerging from the weapons locker. "We'll just have to be more careful."

"And maybe quit assaulting and kidnapping agents of friendly foreign governments?" Chuck asked sarcastically.

"Listen, you little twit…"

"Ahem, gentlemen!" Chuck and Casey turned and looked sheepishly at the screen where General Beckman's stern face frowned out at them. "Am I interrupting something important?"

'How does she always show up at exactly the wrong time?' Chuck wondered.

Sarah jumped in. "No, General. We were just discussing recent developments in the case."

"I see," the General said, unconvinced but not willing to delve any deeper. "You had an update?"

"General, Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, stopped by the store a few minutes ago. He was looking for Agent Schwartz and now he's sending a security detail to keep an eye on our store. They apparently got concerned when Agent Schwartz quit answering his cell phone."

"Damn," Casey said.

"What's that, Major?" Beckman asked.

"We didn't find a cell phone on Schwartz," Casey said. "He must have left it in his car."

"This is getting out of control," Beckman said. "Agent Walker, you are acquainted with Agent Schwartz. Do you think he can be trusted?"

Sarah nodded. "I believe so, Ma'am. He is a highly decorated member of the Israeli Defense Force and his reputation at the Academy was exemplary. I can't see him going rogue."

"Very well," Beckman said. "I'm getting a lot of pressure from Mossad."

"But General," Sarah cut in. "You need to be aware. There's clearly still something Ari… Agent Schwartz… isn't telling us."

"Your job is to find out what that is," Beckman said. "Bring him into the operation, but he is not to be told about the Intersect. As far as he's concerned, the Castle is a special CIA substation to track activity in the Los Angeles area."

"And Chuck?" Sarah asked. "He's been part of this investigation and FBI Agent Carmichael is known by the local authorities to be working the case."

Beckman's frown deepened. She clearly knew that it would be impossible to keep Chuck out of this one; not because of his prior work on the investigation, but because Chuck Bartowski couldn't keep his nose out of where it didn't belong. "Very well," she said. "Mr. Bartowski, you can remain a part of this investigation. A very _small_ part. But as far as Agent Schwartz is concerned, you are an analyst assisting Agents Walker and Casey because of your expertise in computers and retail. Under no circumstances is Agent Schwartz to discover the real nature of Operation Bartowski."

"Understood, General," Sarah said as Chuck nodded.

The General signed off and Sarah turned to Casey. "Maybe you better leave while I let Ari out of lockup."

Casey grunted but turned and headed back to the Buy More. "Should I stay?" Chuck asked, hopefully.

"Don't you have to close up the store?" Sarah asked.

Chuck sighed. "Yeah."

"Come over when you're done," Sarah said, "and I'll introduce you to Ari."

"Great," Chuck said, brightening. He turned to leave.

"And Chuck," Sarah said. Chuck turned around with a quizzical look on his face. "I didn't get to tell you earlier. Thanks for the massage."

"Anytime," Chuck replied with a grin. There was a bounce in his step as he headed back to the Buy More.


	7. I'll Show You Mine

Special thanks to my guest proofreader, **MySoapBox**. She was kind enough to step up and offer to look over this chapter while **Poa** was off grid. By the way, I highly recommend her stories. She has a real way with words.

Take two: Apologies in addition to cudos to **MySoapBox**. She sent me corrections that I completely missed. So now I have made all her corrections. _Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Cupla_.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 7

I'll Show You Mine…

Ari Schwartz was sitting on his cot with his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. If there was one thing that being in the army taught you, it was how to deal with boredom. He was just thinking that maybe he would ask Sarah for a book or something when he heard the beep of the keypad at the door. He turned his head to see the attractive CIA agent enter the final numbers and scan her retina. The door opened and Sarah smiled at him.

"Okay, Ari," she said. "Come on."

"So you finally decided that you could not be parted from me any more, my dear Sarah?" Ari asked with a smile.

"You do realize that there are cameras everywhere and I can send video to Rachel?" Sarah said.

"Fine, fine. Can't an old man have a little fun?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "General Beckman has decided that we can consult with you regarding the investigation into the bombings, provided that you share intel with us."

"I have already told you everything I know," Ari said.

"We both know that's not true, Ari. There's something you're not telling us."

"And there are many things you are not telling me," Ari replied. "Like why there is a secret CIA facility in Los Angeles and why the top agents for the CIA and the NSA are working at a Buy More and a yogurt shop."

"And that is something you do not need to know for this particular investigation," Sarah retorted.

Ari shrugged. "Perhaps it is. We have been operating under the assumption that it is Abdul al Fayed who was behind these bombings, or at least someone in Red Jihad. But now there is an alternate explanation. The bombings could be targeted at your operation and have nothing to do with Red Jihad or al Fayed at all."

"But you have some reason to think that it is Abdul al Fayed beyond just the fact that the bomber is using GB-43's," Sarah replied. "Mossad would not send one of _their_ top agents on a wild goose chase."

"I have told you as much as I am at liberty to say at this time," Ari said. "I will speak to my superiors and see if there is anything else that is relevant and if there is any other information I can release to you." When Sarah started to speak, Ari held up a hand, "Which is not an admission that there is anything else to be disclosed."

Sarah nodded. "Part of this agreement to work together must be that you cannot disclose our operation to anyone else."

"But I must report to my superiors. They will need to know why I have been incommunicado for the last several hours."

"General Beckman has been in contact with Meir Dagan, the head of your organization. You can have them direct any questions to him."

"Nothing like going to the top," Ari said. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes. Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, stopped by and was looking for you. He was sending a security detail to look over the store. Do you think you could call them off?"

Ari frowned. "Are you sure I should? If you and Major Casey are the targets, would not it be good to have extra security for the store?"

"First of all," Sarah replied, "I am not convinced that we are the targets. There is no reason to target us," she lied. "And even if we are, we are capable of taking care of ourselves. Why don't you worry about the other ten Buy More branches?"

Ari nodded. "Very well, but only because you are so terribly persuasive, my dear."

"Check in with your people," Sarah said. "We will have a complete briefing tomorrow morning at seven. Can you be at the Buy More at that time?"

"Seven? What kind of ungodly hour is that for a briefing?" Ari teased.

"We have to maintain our cover jobs and the stores open at nine," Sarah replied.

Ari sighed. "Fine. I will be at the Buy More at seven. But you must bring me bagels and tea."

"This is America, Ari. We drink coffee."

"So do my countrymen," Ari said, "but I do not. Bagels, cream cheese and tea or no meeting."

Sarah laughed. "All right, Ari. Bagels and tea."

"And cream cheese. Low fat. Rachel made me promise to cut back."

"And low fat cream cheese. Now, I'm going to have to blindfold you," Sarah said.

"Why Sarah, what will my Rachel say if I let pretty young girls go around blindfolding me?"

"_Ari_."

"Fine, fine. But if she asks you must tell her that it was your idea."

Sarah blindfolded Ari and led him around the Castle a few times, then up the stairs and out into the Orange Orange. She took Ari out the back door of the shop and led him around the service alley for a bit before finally taking off the blindfold back behind the Orange Orange, reasoning that Ari would assume that she wouldn't stop where she had started.

"Aw, does this mean that you are not going to hold my hand anymore?" Ari asked.

Sarah shook her head. "You are incorrigible, old man," Sarah said with exasperation.

"I thought you said I was not that old," Ari replied.

"Well, if you're going to act like a dirty old man, then that's what I will call you."

Ari looked around. "All the wandering around was pointless, you know. I know that we came out through the freezer of your yogurt shop," he said. "I could smell the toppings."

"Protocol," Sarah replied. "Seven o'clock at the Buy More."

"Of course, my dear. Bagels, cream cheese and tea."

"Yes, Ari," Sarah laughed. "Say hello to Rachel for me when you tell her you saw me."

"I thought I was not supposed to tell anyone I saw you?"

"And I know that you tell Rachel everything," Sarah answered. "That's why Mossad gave up and finally gave her a security clearance. Just tell her to keep quiet as well."

Ari took Sarah's hand and kissed her knuckle. "Until tomorrow, dear Becca," he said.

Chuck was disappointed that he didn't get to meet Ari that night, but was delighted when Sarah came over to the store with two coffees. She hopped up on the counter by the front door and watched him do a walk around through the store prior to closing up.

Sarah couldn't help but smile. Even doing this boring task, Chuck was fastidious, checking everything in what she assumed was a carefully choreographed pattern to make sure he didn't forget anything. "Thanks for waiting," he said when he was finished. "Hey, come here a second."

"What?" she asked with a smile.

"Just come here," he said, taking her hand and leading her back through the store. She didn't resist but enjoyed having him hold her hand, even if it was just to lead her to wherever they were going. He led her to the back of the store and toward the storage area.

"What's that smell?" she asked when they got to the cage.

"Just wait," he said. He stepped into the cage and emerged a moment later with a small creature. He was holding it gently, stroking its fur. "I'm not sure if this is Romeo or Juliette," he said. "It's one of the chinchillas that Jeff and Lester are breeding."

"Can I hold him?" Sarah asked.

Chuck nodded and carefully handed Sarah the small animal. For a moment it resisted leaving Chuck's hands but then let go from him and threatened to scamper up Sarah's arm. Sarah laughed as she caught it and cradled it in her arms. "He's… she's… well whatever. It's cute. And so soft." She gently stroked its coat while Chuck smiled at her.

"Did you have any pets growing up?" he asked.

Sarah shook her head sadly. "No. We moved around too much so my Dad would never let me get one. We used a dog in a con now and again, but I never got to keep it." She stopped, realizing that, whether purposefully or accidentally, Chuck had maneuvered her into talking about herself and her past. That was part of the problem. She was getting so comfortable around him that it was easy to slip up and forget that she was an agent. An agent charged with protecting him no matter what. Reluctantly, she handed back the little ball of fur.

"Maybe we could get you a pet now?" Chuck asked as he put the chinchilla back in its cage.

"I have my goldfish," Sarah replied. "Besides, I don't think my hotel would allow anything else.

"You could keep it at my place," Chuck offered.

Sarah sighed. As tempting as the offer was, she couldn't afford to be tied down by anything or anyone. It wouldn't be fair to Chuck to leave him with a dog come that inevitable day when she was reassigned. Still, she knew Chuck wouldn't accept that excuse so she said, "We'll talk about it later."

They walked back to the front of the store and got their coffees, then Chuck entered the code to activate the security system and they hurried out. He punched in the code to close and lock the front doors. He moved closer to her as if he was going to kiss her goodnight. She took a step back. "We are meeting Ari here at the store tomorrow morning at seven o'clock," she said. "Will that be a problem?"

"No," Chuck sighed. "I'll tell Ellie I'm opening again tomorrow and that I have to be here early."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," Sarah said.

Chuck nodded. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Chuck had just finished changing into his Nerd Herd uniform when there was a tap at his window – or the Morgan Door as it was now universally known. Chuck stepped over to the window and looked out. John Casey was clad in his green Buy More shirt and khakis. Chuck opened the window. "I haven't even had breakfast yet, Casey. What's the hurry?"

"Walker's bringing bagels," Casey replied. "I don't like anyone getting to a meet before me. I like to have the place scoped out before the opposition gets there."

"'The opposition?' Casey, you make it sound like we're meeting Afghani warlords."

Casey reached up and thumped Chuck in the middle of the forehead. "Anybody home? Listen, Bartowski, just because Walker knows this guy, that doesn't make him any less dangerous. Or have you forgotten that someone's blowing up Buy Mores and we don't know who?"

"Ow!" Chuck said, rubbing his forehead. "Was that really necessary?"

Casey reached up as if to thump him again and Chuck darted backwards. "Let me get my phone and keys," he said. He closed the window, grabbed his keys and iPhone and headed toward the front door.

His sister Ellie was sitting at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. She was still dressed in her fluffy pink robe. "You're leaving early," she said.

"I'm meeting Sarah for breakfast and then I have to open the store," he said. "Gotta run!" He turned and started toward the door.

"Chuck wait!" Ellie called. Chuck stopped and turned. "Chuck… Just in case. Well… I love you. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Don't worry, sis. I'll be fine." He wished he could explain that he had two of the country's best agents watching his back so there was no reason for her to worry, but then of course he'd have to explain _why_ they were watching his back and she would just worry all the more. 'Welcome to my world,' he thought. Instead he said, "I love you too, sis."

He and Casey rode to the store in the Nerd Herder. Jeff had grabbed his favorite, number three, so he was stuck with number five, which smelled like wet sweat socks. He wasn't sure why it smelled like wet sweat sock and he wasn't sure he really wanted to know. Chuck turned to Casey. "You know, with all the little additions to the Herders, would it kill them to put in a heavy duty air freshener?"

Casey merely grunted.

Thanks to traffic, they didn't arrive at the Buy More until fifteen minutes to seven. Chuck had been a little concerned during the drive that Casey was going to pull his gun and start shooting other drivers, but they fortunately made it before there were any 'unfortunate incidents' on the freeway. Unfortunately, when the pulled into the parking lot Ari Schwartz's car was there waiting for them.

"Calm, Casey, calm," Chuck said when he glanced over and saw Casey's eyes narrow. "Go to your happy place. Oh, wait. That's right. You don't have a happy place. Think about Reagan. Yeah. That's it. Think about the Gipper."

Casey growled and Chuck decided to let it drop. He pulled the Nerd Herder into its parking spot and heard tires squealing. He turned to see Sarah's Porsche pulling into the lot behind them.

Chuck got out and started toward Sarah's car, while Casey and Ari faced off like two gunslingers, sizing up the new competition in town. "Good morning, Sarah. Can I help you with that?" Chuck asked. Sarah smiled and handed him a bag from Bennie's Bagels and a tray with four Styrofoam cups.

"Good morning, Chuck," Sarah said, offering him that dazzling smile that always made him go a little weak in the knees.

Sarah looked over at Casey and Ari. "Uh oh. We really shouldn't leave those two alone." She hurried over and stepped between the two agents. "Good morning Ari, Casey. I brought bagels. Shall we go have some breakfast and talk?"

Ari smiled, but his eyes never left Casey. "Good morning, Sarah. Did you get me my tea, too?"

"Of course, Ari. And black coffee for you, Casey. How about we go over to the Orange Orange?"

"Fine," Casey said, his eyes fixed on Ari. "After you," he said to the Mossad agent.

"The last time I let you behind me, I woke up with a rather large lump on my head," Ari said with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Tell you what," Sarah said, exasperated. "Why don't you two go around behind the building, have your pissing contest, and then you can join Chuck and I for breakfast?" Casey and Ari both blinked at her. "But I can't guarantee that Chuck won't eat all the bagels before you get there."

The two male agents looked at each other and finally Ari shrugged. "Fine. I am hungry anyway."

"Yeah," Casey agreed. "I've learned never to leave Bartowski alone with the food."

Chuck came over and stood next to Sarah. "Hi," he said to Ari. "I'm Charles Carmichael," he said, "CIA. I'd shake your hand, but…" He held up the bag and the tray of cups to show that both his hands were full.

"Nice to meet you, Agent Carmichael," Ari said.

"Oh, he's not an agent," Casey quickly cut in. "He's an analyst. We needed someone who could actually fit in working at a Buy More."

Chuck gave Casey a strained smile. Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come on," she said. "We have work to do."

They headed over to the Orange Orange. Since Ari had figured out that the entrance to the Castle was in the freezer, she didn't bother with a blindfold this time. They filed down the stairs and Chuck set out the bagels and cups around the table. Ari sat down and Casey took a seat across from him. Sarah sat between the two, so Chuck took the other end of the table. They spent a few minutes passing around the bagels and cream cheese.

"So, Ari, did you talk to your superiors? Did you call off the extra security for the Burbank store?" Sarah asked.

Ari swallowed the bite of bagel in his mouth and nodded. "Yes and yes," he said. "I got the extra security cancelled for your store, for now. I told Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, that I was chasing a lead that did not pan out and that my cell phone battery died. Oh, and he seemed very impressed with someone at the Burbank store. A Chuck Bartowski?"

Chuck smiled. "That would be me. That's my cover. Chuck Bartowski, Nerd Herd supervisor."

"Well, Mr. Bartowski, you certainly must be good at your cover job. Moses is not a man easily impressed."

"And your supervisors?" Sarah asked.

Ari hesitated for a moment and then said, "I have clearance to tell you some additional information, but it is of a highly sensitive nature. And I am only authorized to tell you if I receive your promise of full cooperation in my investigation of the Buy More bombings."

Casey sat back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. "Let's hear what you have to say first," he said.

Sarah gave Casey a narrow-eyed stare and then turned to Ari. "Agreed," she said. Casey leaned forward started to protest, but Sarah gave him a warning look and he huffed and sat back, crossing his arms again.

"Good," Ari said. "We believe that Abdul al Fayed is targeting the Buy Mores in a vendetta against Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More."

"Why?" Chuck asked.

"Because," Ari said, "Moses Finkelstein is Mossad."


	8. If You Show Me Yours

Thanks again to **MySoapBox** for proofreading and offering some very good suggestions regarding this Chapter. If you like something, it's probably hers. If you don't, it's probably where I didn't take her advice.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 8

…If You Show Me Yours

Ari had just dropped his bombshell. "Moses Finkelstein is Mossad."

There was dead silence around the table. Finally it was Chuck who spoke up. "Wait a minute, you're telling us that Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, is a Mossad agent?"

Chuck, Sarah and Casey all looked at Ari Schwartz expectantly. "Ex-Mossad," Ari said. He took a sip of his tea and looked from one to another in turn, as if gauging them. "Moses moved to Israel as a teenager. He joined the Israeli Defense Forces and became a communications specialist. Because of his expertise in encryption, he was recruited by Mossad. He started as an analyst, but he had greater ambitions. He lobbied hard and was eventually sent to the academy to become an agent."

Sarah heard Chuck draw in a breath and glanced over at him. He was listening with rapt attention. What was going on in that mind of his, Sarah wondered. Was Chuck actually thinking about becoming an agent? Bryce had been right at Stanford, of course; Chuck was not cut out to be a spy. In fact, the very idea of Chuck being a spy filled her with dread. The world had enough spies; what it needed were more Chucks. Still, even if he wasn't a spy Chuck was part of 'Spy World,' as he called it. As what, Sarah couldn't say. He clearly wasn't merely an asset anymore; but he wasn't a spy either. Sarah blinked away her reverie and returned her attention to Ari.

"He was actually quite good as an agent. He quickly advanced from working menial cases as a communications specialist to bigger and more important cases. Eventually, he was assigned to the anti-terrorism unit; one of Mossad's most prestigious postings."

He took another sip of tea. Casey was no longer leaning back with his arms crossed. He had uncrossed his arms and was now leaning on the table, listening closely.

"Moses was assigned to the sub-unit which was investigating Red Jihad. But he approached the case differently than those who had been working it prior to his involvement. Instead of the traditional methods, Moses became intimately involved in their finances. It became something of a joke: the 'accountant spy.'"

Casey grunted. It was obvious what he thought of a spy who spent all his time looking at bank records instead of out in the field, chasing down the bad guys.

Sarah glanced over at Chuck who seemed fascinated. Sarah knew that he thought of all spies as James Bond/Jason Bourne types. The idea that you could take on terrorists without karate chopping bad guys obviously intrigued him. Sarah thought she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Maybe she should introduce him to John le Carre's George Smiley.

Ari continued. "Eventually, they stopped laughing. By tracing their funds, he began to compromise individual cells. Then using intelligence obtained from those cells he began to attack the upper echelons. No one in Red Jihad knew who was causing them so much trouble, but they tried desperately to find out."

"In addition to taking out their leadership, he was also seizing their funds, making it impossible for them to finance any major operations. In desperation, Abdul al Fayed arranged for a huge 'loan' from backers in Saudi Arabia. Over two million dollars, American."

Casey whistled. Two millions dollars back in 1978 was a lot of money.

"But when al Fayed appeared at the Credit Suisse bank in Zurich, a Mossad team, headed by Moses, was there to grab him and spirit him out of the country to Israel. Unfortunately, Moses could not help gloating to al Fayed about his victory personally; so now al Fayed knew who 'the accountant spy' was. At the time it did not seem to matter so much because al Fayed was sentenced to life in prison."

"No firing squad?" Casey asked.

"They did not want to make of him a martyr," Ari replied. "Interestingly, the two million dollar 'loan' disappeared from the Red Jihad accounts. Moses retired from Mossad a hero, moved back to the United States and opened his first Buy More using his own personal financing."

"He took Red Jihad's money," Chuck said as realization dawned on him. "He knew everything about their accounts – how the money was transferred. He rerouted it to his own accounts."

Ari nodded. "That is the conjecture, but of course there was never any proof. Besides, without funds, Red Jihad collapsed; al Fayed was in jail; and Moses was a hero. Better that the money go to one of ours, than to terrorists or back to the Saudis."

"And now that al Fayed is out, you think he's seeking revenge on the man who destroyed his organization and put him in jail," Sarah said.

"Yes," Ari confirmed, nodding.

Sarah heard Chuck mutter, too low for Ari to hear, "Is there anyone I know who's not a spy?"

"What was that Mr. Carmichael?" Ari asked.

"What? Oh, nothing. Nothing. I was just thinking that that was some pretty good spy work for an analyst."

Ari shrugged. "Moses started as an analyst. But he became a very good spy." His phone buzzed. "Ah. No rest for the wicked. I need to take this." He pulled out his phone and stepped into the other room to talk.

"Really?" Chuck said when Ari was out of the room. "Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, is a spy? And the Buy More was founded with money a spy stole from terrorists? You can tell me. Is Awesome a spy? Jeff? Lester?"

Casey snorted and muttered, "That'll be the day."

"Did you know any of this?" Chuck asked Sarah.

Sarah shook her head. "No. Mossad is probably the tightest lipped of the various spy agencies."

"Well, at least now we know it's not Fulcrum trying to flush out the Intersect," Chuck said.

Casey grunted. "Not so fast, Bartowski. Schwartz spins a pretty tale, but it could still be a Fulcrum operation – either alone or in concert with al Fayed."

Ari came back in the room, slipping his phone into his pocket as he did so. "My associates are reviewing the security footage from the different Buy Mores, but it will take some time. There is much footage to review and many potential suspects."

"So does Mr. Finkelstein know that you're Mossad? Does he know that you suspect that Abdul al Fayed is behind these bombings?" Sarah asked.

Ari nodded. "He called us immediately after the first bombing. He had been expecting al Fayed to make a move ever since he was released. He hired additional security and a former U.S. Special Forces sergeant as a personal assistant and bodyguard."

Chuck nodded. That explained Amelia Forbes.

"If al Fayed is active again, he may not simply stop at Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. Therefore, my superiors detailed me to come and head up the investigation. You already know, I take it, that Competition Securities is a front for Mossad?"

Casey nodded. "Of course we did."

"So I have, as you say, shown you mine," Ari said. "It is time for you to show me yours." He winked at Sarah.

Casey sat back and folded his arms again and Chuck squirmed a little. It was Sarah who spoke. "This substation was created because of an increase in espionage in the Los Angeles area. Especially with L.A. being a major shipping center. Agent Carmichael," she nodded to indicate Chuck, "established a deep cover some six years ago by accepting a job at the Buy More soon after he was recruited. He acted as point man and oversaw the construction and outfitting of this base, which is code named 'Castle.' Major Casey and I joined the operation approximately two years ago. We have had some success in thwarting a number of operations in the L.A. area."

"Including the elimination of a number of Fulcrum agents," Ari said.

"How do you know about Fulcrum?" Chuck blurted out. Casey glared at him and Sarah gave him a warning look. It was one of the oldest tricks in the spy book to throw out a theory as fact and see if the other side bit.

Ari shrugged. "Fulcrum has tried to recruit within Mossad, as well as other intelligence agencies throughout the world. Where their agenda coincides with ours, we cooperate. Where it does not, we… agree to disagree."

"You're saying that Israel cooperates with a rogue intelligence organization?" Casey sputtered. "With traitors and cowards?"

Ari shrugged. "Mine is a small country surrounded by many, many enemies who would like to see us driven into the sea. We cannot afford to be selective when someone offers us help. But be assured, we know that the United States is our greatest ally and supporter. We would not do anything to jeopardize that relationship. Our dealings with Fulcrum are strictly limited to actions against our common enemies."

"I don't suppose that you would be willing to turn over the names of the people you're dealing with?" Casey asked, somewhat sarcastically. "In the interests of better relations with your 'greatest ally and supporter.'"

Ari shrugged. "I do not have any names to give. And I will not give your names to Fulcrum, either. I only bring it up because I wish to ask: Is it possible that Fulcrum or some other organization is targeting the Buy More stores in order to eliminate this facility?"

"No," Casey replied.

Ari looked at him. "Short, Concise. To the point. And completely unhelpful. How do you know that Fulcrum is not targeting you?"

"We're not going to eliminate any possibility, at this point," Sarah replied, shooting Casey another warning glance. "But _we_ will deal with any potential Fulcrum involvement. Mossad is _not_ to get involved in any internecine struggles of American intelligence agencies."

Ari spread his hands. "Understood. However, if it is Abdul al Fayed, then_ you _will let Mossad deal with him. _Our way_."

Chuck felt a shiver run down his spine at the way Ari said, 'Our way.' He had little doubt what Ari meant. If Abdul al Fayed was responsible, he had blown up two Buy Mores and killed dozens of people, including people Chuck knew personally. But could he condone the cold blooded murder of the man? It was Lieutenant Mauser all over again. At least this time it would not be Sarah pulling the trigger. Even so, no matter what the CIA and the NSA agreed to, Chuck was not going to hand a man over to be killed. He was almost positive he wouldn't.

To her credit, Sarah, with a glance at Chuck, didn't immediately agree. "We have to catch him first before we can worry about who gets to try al Fayed."

Ari raised an eyebrow at her choice of words. He knew that Sarah Walker was not so naïve. But perhaps this Agent Carmichael was. After all, he was only an analyst.

Chuck looked down at his watch. "Oh my gosh, I have to go open the store. Nice to meet you, Agent Schwartz. I look forward to working with you. Sarah. Casey." He gave each one a nod and then ran up the steps, two at a time.

Ari looked from Sarah to Casey and then back to Sarah. "Of course," he said, "Mr. Finkelstein must be informed of this operation."

"No," Casey said flatly.

Ari looked at him. "You are running a covert government operation which could potentially be endangering his very livelihood. He has a right to know."

"And his ripping off two million dollars from a terrorist is getting American citizens blown up," Casey retorted.

"Ari," Sarah cut in, "this is a highly sensitive operation in which the CIA and NSA have invested considerable time and resources. We cannot afford to have word of it leaked out."

Ari shook his head. "Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, would not leak the information. He is Mossad."

"Ex," said Casey.

"There is no such thing. When we take the oath, it is for life. Surely that is something even _you_ can understand, Major."

Casey started to stand. Recognizing Casey's expression, Sarah quickly intervened. "Ari, please. Do not tell Mr. Finkelstein about the operation just yet. There haven't been any more bombs after the first two. Let's pool our resources and see if we can come up with something."

Ari glared at Casey before turning and giving Sarah a beatific smile. "Of course. As a personal favor to you, my dear," he said.

Casey rolled his eyes. "Oh brother."

Sarah ignored him. "If you can have your people send us all the raw surveillance feed, we can run it through our facial recognition software and see if we hit on anyone."

Ari considered for a moment and then pulled out his phone.

Jeff, Lester, and three Green Shirts were waiting for Chuck when he emerged from the Orange Orange and jogged across to the Buy More. Lester piped up. "You know, Charles, we're all familiar with afternoon delight, but I think that's suppose to take place in the afternoon."

"Is that even sanitary?" Jeff asked.

Chuck ignored them as he punched in the security code to open the doors.

The six of them filed into the store and Chuck noticed how nervous the three Green Shirts looked as they scoured the store for anything suspicious. He shook his head. Did they really think they would come across a big bundle with sticks of dynamite and an alarm clock stuck on top like in the old Bugs Bunny cartoons?

Jeff and Lester, on the other hand, ran to the back of the store to check on the chinchillas. Chuck made the rounds, getting the store ready to open. Not that he expected any customers. Still, there had been no bombing yesterday, so maybe a few brave souls would venture in. He idly wondered when the price cuts and media blitz of 'Operation Even More' would start.

He stepped over to the Nerd Herd desk and swiped his card to clock in. "I knew we should have left them in the home theater room," he heard Lester say. He turned to watch Jeff and Lester shuffling sadly out of the back of the store. "The Cage just isn't the right romantic atmosphere for getting freaky."

"Speak for yourself," Jeff replied.

Lester rolled his eyes. "I'm not talking about your assorted perversions, Moron. I'm talking about chinchillas."

Chuck shook his head. "No babies, huh? What is the gestation period for a chinchilla, anyway?"

"The gestawhat?" Lester asked.

"The gestation period," Chuck replied. "The time between conception and birth."

Jeff and Lester got confused looks on their faces. "Has anyone ever explained the birds and the bees to you guys?" Chuck asked.

"We're not raising bees," Jeff said. "I tried once but they all died. I think maybe I should have put some holes in the jar lid, but I was afraid all the honey would leak out."

"No… I… You know what? Never mind. But clean the chinchillas' cage. It's starting to stink."

That started an argument over who's job 'domestic maintenance' for the chinchilla ranch was. Chuck shook his head and walked off. Sometimes not having any customers was a blessing, considering his work crew.

Two hours and no customers later, the doors to the store opened and everyone looked up expectantly. Seeing that it was John Casey, they all went back to their video games (or in Jeff and Lester's case, planning what they were going to do with all the money from the chinchilla ranch).

"Hey, Casey, what's… whoa, whoa, whoa," Chuck said as Casey grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back toward the home theater room. "Hey, Casey, lighten up. You're hurting the Intersect," Chuck said when Casey shoved him in the room and closed the curtains.

"Can it, Bartowski. Look at this."

Casey held up a photo, clearly enlarged from a Buy More security camera. Chuck felt the nausea build and his eyes went slack.

Casey shook his head. You'd think the kid would have come up with a better expression for his flashes by now.

"Oh boy," Chuck said. "Hassan Nidal a/k/a the Postman. Known member of Red Jihad. Famous for sending letter bombs to prominent Israeli officials and political cartoonists. Last known location Beirut, Lebanon."

"Well he's here now. Schwartz's people pulled this off a surveillance feed from the North Hollywood branch. Let's go."

Casey grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the store. "Greg, you're in charge," Chuck managed to yell to one of the Green Shirts as Casey hustled him out.

Chuck, Sarah, Casey and Ari all piled into Casey's suburban. Sarah drove while Chuck and Casey changed into their FBI gear in the back seat. "We've alerted the L.A.P.D. and they're sending a team to the store, along with an L.A. County bomb disposal squad," Sarah said.

A few minutes later, Sarah skidded to a stop in front of the store. A single police car was sitting in front. The patrolman was standing next to his car, talking on his radio.

The foursome jumped out of the Suburban and ran over to him. Sarah flashed her FBI badge. "Have you evacuated the store?" she asked.

The patrolman looked at her. "I don't have any authorization to do that," he said. "You know how many bomb calls we've gotten in the last three days? I'm supposed to wait for a supervisor."

"_There is a bomb in that store_," Sarah hissed. She shook her head, exasperated, "We don't have time for this."

She turned and ran toward the store, Ari a step behind her. Chuck started to follow, but Casey grabbed him by the collar of his FBI windbreaker. "Uh huh," Casey said, "You stay here."

"But Casey…" he was interrupted by the sound of the building's fire alarm going off. The front doors opened and people started streaming out. From the number of people, this Buy More was obviously better staffed than the Burbank branch.

Suddenly Chuck was staggered by was a tremendous roar. The people running out of the doors of the store were scattered like so much chafe before a strong wind. The back end of the store seemed to rise up in slow motion as a single piece and then splinter and tear as bits of flames darted through the cracks. A fireball rolled out of the front doors and a larger torrent of flame shot out the crumpled back of the store.

"Oh my God," Chuck gasped, "Sarah!"


	9. Agent Down

Thanks again to **MySoapBox** who is doing proofreading/editing chores in the absence of my regular editor, **Poa**, who is on her way back onto the grid (kind of like Papa Bartowski). Welcome back **Poa**!

I got some great suggestions from **MSB**, which are incorporated herein. I think you'll like the changes, **MSB**. I hope I captured what you were looking for.

Sorry about leaving you with Sarah inside a blown up building…wait… no I'm not. It's what I do. Call me 'Mr. Cliffhanger.'

And now the next exciting installment of…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 9

Agent Down

Chuck staggered as if punched, even though the force from the explosion was a mere puff of wind by the time it reached him. Chuck felt an icy hand, a giant's hand, clutch his heart and squeeze. He had to force himself to breathe and even then his breath came in a ragged gasp. Time seemed to stop. He willed his feet forward, but for a moment that seemed to stretch to eternity, he was frozen in place. The image before him would be burned in his mind forever. Oily black smoke rose in a giant plume from the back of the store while a cloud of dust, debris and smoke, flashing with hints of orange flame, billowed from the shattered front doors. The people in front of the store – the lucky ones who got out – struggled to their feet. They turned, looked in horror at the hell behind them and ran if they could, stumbled or hobbled or even crawled if they couldn't, to escape the burning wreckage which had once been the place they worked, laughed, and griped about their dead end jobs. One woman sat on the ground, her bloody hands covering her face as she screamed something unintelligible.

"Sarah," Chuck said in a voice as soft as an exhale. His face was a mask of pain and confusion. Something stronger than fear took hold of him. He started toward the store, forgetting that Casey still had a grip on his arm. The tug on his arm brought him up short and he turned to look at Casey. Chuck had seen Casey mad, tired, bored, disappointed and even in love (or at least, a reasonable facsimile with Ilsa), but he had never seen Casey stricken with fear and dread. He wasn't even looking at Chuck. His eyes were riveted on the store.

Half dazed, half angry, Chuck jerked his arm away and started forward again. Casey blinked and seemed to recover. "No, Chuck," he said, his voice hoarse as he reached out and grabbed Chuck's arm again.

"Casey, it's Sarah," Chuck pleaded. Casey turned his face away. The fear disappeared from Chuck's eyes, and his face took on a terrible countenance. His brown eyes were as hard as obsidian. Almost involuntarily, his hand clenched into a fist and his eyes began to burn with a manic fire brighter than those that began to lick at the entrance to the store. Casey, composing himself, started to turn back to say something to Chuck. He never got the chance.

Chuck's fist collided with the side of Casey's jaw with a sound as sharp as the crack of a rifle. Casey's head jerked to the side, his eyes losing focus for a moment. He staggered a half-step back under the unexpected blow and he lost his grip on Chuck's arm.

Casey shook his head to clear it and blinked rapidly. Reflexively, his hands flew to the 'ready' position and he assumed a fighting stance. But there was no one to fight. He looked about in confusion only to see Chuck halfway to the entrance to the store, moving faster than Casey would have thought possible for the lanky nerd.

Casey recovered quickly and broke into a dead run. "Chuck! Dammit Bartowski, don't be a hero," he yelled. Chuck either ignored him or didn't hear him; his arms and legs wind-milling as he ran flat-out for the entrance of the now burning Buy More, the FBI windbreaker flapping behind him like a cape.

A man in a tattered green shirt teetered perilously on shaky legs as he struggled out of the entrance to the store. Chuck nearly bowled him over, pushing him out of the way in his quest for the entrance. A second smaller explosion blew Chuck backwards with blistering heat and spraying debris. Undaunted, he pulled his jacket up around his face and pressed forward. The roar of the flames was so loud Chuck couldn't hear Casey behind him, yelling at him to stop, cursing Chuck's foolish bravado.

Chuck didn't feel brave. He didn't feel fear. If anything, he felt an odd mixture of rage and despair as he pushed aside the twisted remains of a display rack in order to gain entrance to the store, like Orpheus descending into Hell to rescue his Eurydice. The interior of the store was ablaze and thick black smoke billowed from the back of the store, the apparent epicenter of the blast. A cardboard standee of a smiling Green Shirt stood upright, wedged in the debris just inside the entrance, but it was now crowned with a halo of fire. Chuck coughed. The heat was so intense it felt as if his eyes would boil out of their sockets. He raised his arm to shield them and the tender flesh of his face as he staggered forward, dodging bits of flaming ceiling tile.

He practically tripped over the body of a man in a Nerd Herd uniform, lying just inside the entrance, his legs splayed at an impossible angle. Chuck recoiled for an instant; no matter how much death he had seen since he received the Intersect, the sight of a body hit him like a jab to the gut. How much worse when the body was dressed in his own uniform? He shook it off and struggled forward, trying to put the sight out of his mind.

A man suddenly appeared out of the smoke, half his face burned away. Chuck recoiled again, but recovered enough to grab the man and shove him toward the store's entrance. He felt a twinge of guilt for not assisting the man further, but all he could think of was Sarah. An image of her, her face blacked and blistered filled his mind. "No!" he cried and tried to force the image from his mind. All he had found so far was death and injury. Despair threatened to tear his heart from his chest, but still he struggled forward.

"Sarah!" he screamed. No response. He tried to call her name again, but instead inhaled a searing lungful of smoke. He coughed, staggered forward and coughed again. He peeked under the protection of his arm to survey the store. The back of the store was completely wrecked. If Sarah had been there… No! He refused to even consider the possibility. He squinted in the heat, looking for some clue. "Sarah!" he coughed. She was a trained agent; she would have taken cover from the blast. He could feel his hair begin to curl as it was singed by the heat. He turned to the right. The Customer Service Counter!

He practically leapt at the counter. He grabbed a metal display rack blocking his way, his flesh searing on the hot metal. He didn't even notice. With a bellow of rage and adrenaline, he pushed the heavy rack aside and staggered up to the counter to peer over.

There was a body lying prone behind the counter. Catching sight of the tattered remains of yellow lettering on the back of the figure's windbreaker he gasped, "Sarah;" but then he saw that the body was too big for Sarah. Then he caught the hint of a woman's hand protruding from underneath the body. With a strangled cry, more animal than human, he vaulted the counter.

"Bartowski!" came a call from behind him. The angry voice of John Casey. It didn't even register to him as speech, only one more sound in the cacophony that filled the store. Recognizing the first body now as Ari, he grabbed the Mossad agent and pushed him roughly to the side. Ari groaned. Beneath him was the still form of Sarah Walker. All thought but her safety driven from his mind, Chuck was pure action. He scooped Sarah up in his arms and scrambled over the counter.

"Bartowski!"

Casey was suddenly in front of him. Chuck blinked dumbly at the larger man and then tried to elbow him aside. When Casey didn't move but reached out for Sarah, Chuck flinched and seemed to blink at surprise at seeing Casey there. "Ari's back there," he shouted over the roar of the flames, jerking his head back towards the counter to show Casey where the other agent was. He staggered past Casey, through the smoke, and out of the store. His breath was coming in ragged gasps now as he coughed to try and clear the smoke from his lungs. A set of hands reached for him, reached for Sarah. He yanked violently away and staggered forward, toward safety.

Another set of hands grabbed him. "Agent. Agent it's okay. You got her out. You're safe." Chuck whirled to confront the voice, clinging desperately to Sarah. He had to protect her. He had to… had to… He blinked. A police officer stood in front of him, hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Agent. Let's set her down. The paramedics are on the way."

Chuck blinked again. His eyes burned from the smoke and the tears and the heat and the sunlight. He looked down at the woman in his arms, at Sarah. At the woman who meant more to him than his very life. What more proof of that did he need? The officer guided him to a spot of grass and he gently laid Sarah down. "Is she?" was all he managed to say.

Suddenly, Sarah's body convulsed in a fit of coughing and Chuck took her in his arms and tried to hold her while she gasped for air.

"Over here!" he heard the policeman shout and he looked up to see a large shape ambling toward him out of the smoke. He blinked several times trying to clear his vision, still grasping tightly to Sarah. The shape resolved itself into John Casey, the still form of Ari Schwartz slung across his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Casey gently eased Ari to the ground next to Sarah, careful to place him on his stomach as his back was lacerated, blood soaking into the remains of his shirt and FBI windbreaker.

Sirens began to wail as police cars, fire trucks and ambulances pulled into the parking lot, followed by the 'whump, whump, whump' of the helicopters. Casey coughed and glared up at the policeman who was standing over them. "Keep everyone except the paramedics away from these three. You understand. Keep everyone else away. Get me a goddam paramedic _right now_!"

Casey struggled to his feet and glared down at Chuck. "Don't think this is over, Bartowski," he coughed. Chuck stared dumbly up at him. Casey turned his back and Chuck heard him mutter, "You brave, stupid, heroic, idiotic son of a…"

His last words were cut off by Sarah's coughing. She gasped for breath and Chuck's heart nearly burst from his chest when she opened her eyes to blink up at him. Her eyes seemed unfocused and she squinted at him. "Chuck?" she gasped, "Chuck is that…"

"Shhh, Sarah. It's me. You're safe," Chuck croaked. He stroked her blonde hair and tears streamed down his cheeks, making tracks in the soot and grime.

Sarah coughed again. "Ari?" she asked.

"He's right here. Casey got him out," Chuck rasped, his voice raw from the smoke.

"He saved my life," Sarah gasped.

Chuck's tears were streaming freely now. "Then I owe him mine," he said softly.

There was a sudden commotion as Casey hauled two paramedics over and dropped one in front of Ari and one in front of Sarah. The paramedics gave Casey one last frightened look, then got to work. "Sir," the one said to Chuck. "Sir, let me have a look at her." Chuck reluctantly released her and the paramedic started to examine her. Chuck started to move away, but Sarah grabbed his hand. Chuck winced – he hadn't even noticed his hands were burned until now – but he didn't let go. As long as Sarah wanted him, he would stay right here. He gratefully sank back to the ground and held her hand. Two more paramedics came over carrying oxygen bottles. They strapped masks on Chuck and Sarah and turned on the flow. The cool oxygen felt good on Chuck's raw throat. He pulled the mask aside, coughed again, and put the mask back in place.

One of the paramedics handed a bottle to Casey and he reluctantly accepted it, putting the mask over his face. A couple minutes later, a third group of paramedics trooped up. The leader of the new group gave Casey a slight nod, which Casey returned. "We'll take it from here," the new paramedic said.

The other paramedics looked confused but packed up their things to go tend to other victims. One of the new paramedics knelt by Sarah. "Agent Walker, I'm agent Humbolt, CIA. Are you all right?"

Sarah nodded without removing her mask. Agent Humbolt checked her over. When he finished, he turned to Chuck. "I'm fine," Chuck protested after pulling the mask from his face. "See to her."

"Please, Agent Carmichael, let me be the judge of that." Agent Humbolt began checking him over and Chuck winced when the man touched his hands. "You've got a pretty good burn, there," the man said. He looked around and then said to Chuck in a low voice, "Everyone around here is talking about how you clocked Agent Casey and then ran into the fire to save Agent Walker. You're going to be the talk of the agency."

Sarah's eyes went wide. It was obvious she had overheard the conversation. She struggled to sit up but Humbolt turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Lie down, Agent Walker. It doesn't look like you have a concussion, but we're going to check you over very carefully once I take care of Agent Carmichael's burns."

Sarah lay back down but fixed her eyes on Chuck. There was a flicker of irritation at first, but then her visage softened. She tried to be angry at him for what he had done. How many times had she told him that his life was the more valuable? That it was her job to protect him? But how could you be mad at the man who just saved your life?

Chuck suddenly felt very self-conscious. "You know," he whispered to the paramedic. "I'd appreciate it if you guys didn't go spreading this story around. You, ah, know how Agent Casey can get."

Agent Humbolt nodded. "Gotcha," he said. "Mum's the word. I'll let the guys know."

"Thanks," Chuck replied as Agent Humbolt began to slather some kind of salve on his hands and then wrap them in gauze. Chuck looked down as he did and noticed for the first time that the nylon sleeves of his windbreaker had actually puckered and bubbled slightly from the heat.

"You're going to want to put some aloe on your face, too," the agency paramedic said. "I'll go get some."

A voice, raspy yet booming at the same time, sounded from the cluster of police vehicles a short distance away. "Agent Casey!" it called. "Casey, dammit, where are you?"

Casey glanced up to see a woman in a cheap suit and bottle-blonde hair striding toward him. "Oh crap," he moaned when he recognized Captain Barbara Anders, LAPD.

Anders strode up and put her hands on her hips. "Well, you certainly made a mess of yourself, didn't you cupcake?"

Casey winced and Chuck couldn't help smiling. He looked back down at Sarah, but she didn't seem to have heard or even noticed Anders. She was staring at Chuck with a look so intense that Chuck involuntarily shuddered. Sarah's eyes were watering but Chuck wrote that off to the smoke. "Are you all right?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Do your hands hurt? You… You…" She coughed so hard she had to readjust her mask. Tears were streaming down her face now. "Chuck," she said, struggling up to her elbow so that she could lay a hand on his arm. "You could have been hurt. You could have been killed." There was no anger in her voice, but rather a note almost of pleading.

"I'm all right," he assured her. "I…" He was interrupted by Agent Humbolt returning. The agency paramedic began to slather a gel on Chuck's face. He closed his eyes and reveled in the coolness of the salve, but he could still feel Sarah's hand on his arm.

"We're going to take you both over to County General to get you checked out," Agent Humbolt said. "Right after we get Agent Schwartz out of here." Chuck glanced over. Two other paramedics loaded Ari onto a gurney and put him in the back of an ambulance. Chuck started to protest that he didn't need a hospital, but then glanced down at Sarah. If he refused, she no doubt would as well and he wanted to make sure she was going to be okay.

Sarah laid back and closed her eyes, but kept her grip on Chuck's arm. As the adrenaline ebbed away, Chuck suddenly felt as if every limb was made of lead. He slipped to the grass next to her and took her hand. He could feel the light pressure of her hand in his; but though he ached to feel her, feel her flesh pressed to his, he had to settle for a light squeeze from her through the gauze. The simple gesture caused a twinge of pain to his burned hand, but he squeezed her hand back even tighter.


	10. Charles Carmichael, Hero

Thanks to **Poa**, my editor/proofreader. (Yes, she's back). And thanks again to **MySoapBox** for her help while **Poa** was away. The casual reader may not realize it, but we have an incredible network of very supportive, very talented people here on . I am so glad that I posted that first story in that it gave me an entry into a wonderful community of truly special individuals. ('Snort', Casey says. 'Special.')

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 10

Charles Carmichael, Hero

Chuck and Sarah rode in the back of the ambulance to County General Hospital. Casey insisted on following them in his Suburban. Because Agent Humbolt, the agency paramedic, rode in the back with them, the beginning of the trip was made in silence. Of course, that didn't stop the sidelong glances that Sarah cast at Chuck and Chuck at Sarah, each looking away quickly when it appeared the other might glance their way. 'God, it's like I'm back in junior high,' Chuck thought. Finally, he lay back and enjoyed the slight buzz he was getting from breathing the pure oxygen. 'I guess this explains what people see in oxygen bars,' Chuck thought.

He looked down. His hands were starting to throb a little. He cleared his throat and turned to Agent Humbolt. "Could I get, I don't know, some aspirin or something?"

Agent Humbolt was on his feet and leaning over Chuck in an instant. "What is it, Agent Carmichael? Headache? Your hands? Your throat?" He seemed genuinely concerned, which only succeeded in making Chuck nervous.

'Am I in worse shape than I realize?' Chuck thought. 'I don't feel that bad.' "It's, ah, my hands. They're starting to throb a little."

"Just a little?" Humbolt asked.

Chuck nodded. "I mean, not too bad. But it's starting to get uncomfortable, if you know what I mean."

Humbolt nodded. "Tell you what. We're almost there. If you can hang on a little longer, we can let the Doctor prescribe something for you. You can wait that long, can't you?" He shook his head and answered his own question. "I'm sorry. Of course you can. You're Agent Carmichael." He glanced over at Sarah who had her eyes closed, then said to Chuck in a low voice. "You know, I was over at the Sheraton Conference Center when you went in without a hazmat suit to rescue those scientists. Bravest damn thing I've ever seen. And now with you running into that building?" He shook his head. "It's too bad we can't tell anyone about you, Agent Carmichael. You're a real hero."

Chuck felt his face flush and fidgeted a little. At least the burns on his face would hide his blushing. Chuck knew he wasn't a hero. Heroes were guys who threw themselves on grenades or charged enemy pillboxes single-handedly. Or who, like Sarah and Casey, took on hordes of bad guys with nothing but their feet and fists without a thought for their own safety. A real hero wouldn't feel the gnawing fear in the pit of their stomach that plagued him. A real hero wouldn't have hesitated before running into the building like he had done. Even now, there was a slight tremble in his hands at the mere thought of what he had done.

The problem was, how was he supposed to ask for aspirin now? "I'm just doing my job," Chuck said. "The same as you." He nodded over at Sarah. "Agents Walker and Schwartz are the real heroes. They're the ones who ran inside to evacuate the building knowing that there was a bomb."

Humbolt grinned. "I know you asked us not to say anything, but it was kind of cool the way you clocked Agent Casey. He's got a reputation around the local NSA office of being something of a hardass."

Chuck couldn't help grinning. He leaned closer to Humbolt and whispered conspiratorially. "It's all an act. Agent Casey is really just a big teddy bear, once you get to know him."

Sarah must not have been asleep after all, because Chuck heard a stifled chuckle from the next gurney. He leaned up on an elbow and looked over at Sarah, who leaned up on an elbow as well and winked at him.

When they reached the hospital, Agent Humbolt turned them over to an Agency doctor and medical staff. Chuck was a little concerned when they wheeled him into an area marked, 'Biohazard! No unauthorized access. Level I hazmat suit required.' The orderly wheeling the gurney must have seen the look of panic on his face, because he said, "Don't worry. The sign is just to keep people out. The agency has a special area set aside for its personnel and some of the hospital staff have been given clearance to work on 'special cases' like you."

Chuck was a little distressed that he was taken into a separate examining room from Sarah, but the matronly nurse who attended to him seemed quite nice and very competent. The nurse was taking his vitals when the door slammed open and John Casey, face still blackened from soot, burst into the room. The nurse turned around, took one look at him, and pointed a long index finger at the door. "Out," she demanded.

Casey opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a single syllable, the nurse jabbed her index finger at the door again and said, even louder, "Out. Don't come back until you've cleaned up."

Chuck saw Casey's angry center, already at a slow burn, flame into a full-blown blast furnace. But to Chuck's surprise, Casey turned on his heel and marched out of the room. The nurse turned back to Chuck and he was startled at the intensity of her expression. He suddenly understood Casey's about face much better. But the nurse's expression instantly softened. "Germs, you know. You have to be careful with burns. It's easy to get an infection. Once I've got your vitals, we'll start to get you cleaned up, too."

True to her word, she had Chuck strip off his dirty, stinky clothes and slip into a hospital gown while she waited outside. He fumbled with the tie in back. It was bad enough trying to tie the blasted things normally, but his hands were hurting and his fingers seemed to have all turned into thumbs.

The nurse returned and Chuck spun to face her while he clutched the back of his gown closed. "Trouble tying it, dear?" the nurse asked.

"I, ah, well… That is…"

"Don't worry," the nurse said. "You haven't got anything I haven't seen before. Besides, I've got house slippers older than you." She spun him around and quickly and efficiently tied the gown closed. Chuck still felt half-naked wearing only the thin, open-backed gown and his underwear. "Once the doctor is finished, I'll get you some scrubs to wear," she said. "We keep some extra ones on hand."

The doctor came in a few moments later. He didn't look much older than Devon, but he had a shock of white hair that added gravitas to his mien. "Agent Carmichael, I'm Doctor Jennings. You've had quite the day, haven't you? Let's take a look at you, shall we?"

He gave Chuck a thorough examination before turning to his burns. "The face doesn't look too bad. First degree. No worse than a good sunburn. I'll give you a cream that will help. Now let's look at those hands." He carefully unwrapped the gauze and gently held Chuck's hands from the back, careful not to touch the burned palms. "You've got a little blistering. Can you close your hand?"

Chuck tried, but winced in pain as his hand was about half-closed. "That's okay. Stop there. You've got some pretty good burns here. Second degree. I'm going to clean them and apply an ointment, then we'll re-wrap them. You'll have to change the dressings… well, have someone change the dressings… twice a day. And I'll give you some ibuprofen for the pain."

He went to work on Chuck's hands and when he was done, Chuck held them up to inspect them, all wrapped in gauze as they were. "I feel like Imhotep," Chuck said.

"Excuse me?" the doctor asked.

"Imhotep. You know, The Mummy? The Mummy Returns?"

The doctor shook his head.

"Brendan Frazier? Rachel Weisz?' Arnold Vosloo?"

The doctor shrugged.

Chuck shook his head. "You really need to get out more, doc. Do yourself a favor. Go rent them. Great special effects. Don't bother with the third one, though. Different Evie. No Vosloo. Not worth the time."

The doctor chuckled. "You're certainly different than my other agency patients," he said. "I…"

The door burst open and John Casey, now scrubbed clean and dressed in purple scrubs, barged in. "Listen, _Carmichael_…" he started to say.

"Excuse me," Doctor Jennings cut him off. "And you are?"

"About to have a little chat with your patient here," Casey replied.

"Um, Casey, about earlier…" Chuck started.

"Excuse me," Jennings said, a little louder so as to cut Chuck off. "I am in the middle of examining my patient. You can wait outside."

The veins in Casey's neck started to throb, but he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said, "We'll talk later, Agent Carmichael." He turned and slammed the door open and barged out of the room.

"Who the hell was that?" Doctor Jennings asked.

"My partner," Chuck replied. "Well, one of my partners. The other one…"

As if on cue, the doors opened and Sarah came in, looking stunning even in wet hair and blue scrubs. "Oh, am I interrupting?" she asked.

"No, no, please come in," Doctor Jennings said. "I'm Doctor Andrew Jennings." He put just a little more emphasis on the 'doctor.' Chuck rolled his eyes. By now he was used to men fawning over Sarah, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. "But you can call me Andrew," the doctor continued.

"Hi," Sarah said, taking the doctor's offered hand. "I'm Sarah Walker. I'm here to see my savior, if that's all right."

"Of course. Of course," Doctor Jennings replied. Then he paused, confused. "Um, savior?"

"Agent Carmichael pulled me from a burning building," Sarah replied. She smiled at Chuck, but Chuck saw something unreadable in her eyes. Unreadable and a little disquieting. He almost preferred that Casey come back in. Almost.

Jennings' eyes grew wide and he looked at Chuck. "Wait. You're the one on television."

"I'm what?" Chuck asked.

There was a television suspended from a ceiling mount in the room. Doctor Jennings picked up the big blue and white remote from Chuck's bed and turned on the television. He flipped through the channels until he found one where there was a picture of the burning North Hollywood Buy More. He turned up the volume.

"…third Southern California Buy More bombed in four days. Police do not yet have a suspect. Fortunately, an FBI team arrived at the store moments before the explosion and began an evacuation. The heroics of two of the FBI agents were captured on this amateur video. We apologize for the quality of the footage, but the scenes are dramatic. Viewer discretion is advised."

The scene cut to footage that was obviously being shot by a very excited bystander with a hand-held video camera. The shaky video showed the front of the Buy More sheathed in smoke and flame while men and women in green shirts and Nerd Herd uniforms stumbled away from the store. "Geez, look at that," said a voice on the tape. "That's incredible." "You think we're safe here, dude?" "Shut up, I wanna get this." "Whoa, dude, look!"

A hand appeared to the left of the frame, pointing. The camera swiveled and jerked to catch the image of a tall, lanky man with curly hair, dressed in a black windbreaker on which one could just make out 'FBI" stenciled in yellow on the back, running toward the inferno. He collided with a man in a green shirt, bounced off him, and then rushed headlong into the smoke and flames.

Chuck's and Sarah's eyes were riveted to the screen while the doctor looked from one to the other before occasionally glancing back up at the television.

"He's toast, dude," the voice on the video said. Another figured appeared, slightly larger than the first and also dressed in an FBI windbreaker. He stopped for a moment at the door and then ran into the fire after the first man. "Whoa, like, FBI convention, dude," the voice said.

The video zoomed in and out inexpertly, and panned over the smoke and flames coming from the store, before the voice shouted, "Look! There he comes." A figure staggered out of the smoke carrying a limp form dressed in black. The long, blonde hair and slender build showed it to be a woman. The rescuer stumbled forward, was grabbed by a bystander, shook him off, stumbled forward a little farther and was stopped by a police officer.

Doctor Jennings looked at Sarah, then at Chuck, then back at Sarah. "Was that…" he started to ask.

"Here comes the other one," the voice on the video interrupted. The video showed the second figure that had entered the store striding out with a body draped over his shoulder. Then a fire engine pulled in front of the camera, blocking the view. The television cut back to the news anchors at the studio.

Chuck said a silent prayer of thanks that the video was of low enough quality and taken from far enough away that he couldn't be recognized, nor could Casey or Sarah. That would have been a little hard to explain to Ellie or Morgan.

"Dramatic footage, indeed," the male television anchor said. "There is no comment, as yet, from the local FBI office with regard to the extraordinary acts of heroism viewed on this tape. Officials at the scene requested that the names of the FBI agents involved be withheld since they are part of an ongoing investigation."

"Well, our hats are off to them, whoever they are," the female anchor said. "As we said earlier in the telecast, this is the third…"

Chuck reached over and turned off the television. He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked over at Sarah. Her mouth was drawn in a thin line and her eyes glistened. Sarah turned to the doctor.

"Could you give us a moment?" she asked.

"Oh, ah, sure," Jennings said. His eyes darted hurriedly around the room, as if looking for something to take with him, but then he licked his lips and nodded at Chuck. "I'll, ah, get you those ibuprofen, Agent Carmichael." Then he hurried out of the room.

Sarah sat down on the bed next to Chuck. "What were you thinking?" she asked. "Chuck, you could have been killed."

Chuck looked down and shifted uncomfortably. He suddenly felt very naked, dressed only in a thin hospital gown while Sarah sat so close to him.

"I… well… that is…"

"Chuck," Sarah continued. Her voice was flat: no heat; no passion. It was as if she was reciting a practiced speech from memory. "It's _my_ job to protect _you_. You're the Intersect. You are incredibly valuable. You aren't supposed to endanger yourself for the life of a mere agent."

Chuck looked up at her. "You're not a mere agent, Sarah."

"But Chuck…"

"Sarah, do you honestly think I could go on living if I let you die in there? That I could just stand by while the girl I… while you died in that fire?"

Sarah started to say something, but stopped and took a deep breath. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for saving my life."

"One down and, what, two or three hundred to go to even the score?" Chuck asked, a smile starting to slowly spread across his face.

"It's not the first time," Sarah said, bumping him with her shoulder. "But it was incredibly brave. And incredibly stupid."

Chuck just shrugged.

"I'm serious, Chuck. You can't take chances like that. That's my job. And Casey's. If Beckman thinks you're endangering yourself for me…" She paused, leaving the possible consequences unsaid.

"Sarah, I think you'd know me better by now. If it makes you feel any better, I would have done the same for Casey. Well, okay, I don't think I would have hit you and he would have been a lot harder to carry." He smiled that mischievous smile of his and Sarah heaved a heavy sigh.

"What are we going to do with you, Chuck?" she asked.

"Well, I could make a few suggestions."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Really, Mr. Bartowski? Pray tell, what did you have in mind?"

Called on his bluff, Chuck fidgeted nervously and said, "Well, um, I… I mean, what I meant to say was… See…"

Sarah smiled and he laughed.

"Did you really hit Casey?" she asked.

Chuck nodded. "Um. I didn't really mean to. I mean, I guess I _meant_ to but I really… You know… He wouldn't let me go and… It's just…"

Sarah shook her head. "I think you better let me run interference with Casey for awhile." She frowned. "It's going to be kind of hard explaining your injuries to Ellie and Devon. I think you better stay at my place for a few days until you heal."

"Um, really?" Chuck asked. "I don't want to put you out or anything. I guess we could tell Ellie… Um… Surely we can think of something."

Sarah shook her head. "You're staying with me, Mr. Intersect. It's the only way I know I can keep you out of trouble. And you're going to need someone to take care of you while you heal."

"So how is it that you get blown up but I'm the one with all the injuries?" Chuck asked.

Sarah shrugged. "I have to maintain my reputation as Wonder Woman."

Chuck suddenly remembered Ari and felt guilty at neglecting the man he considered the true hero of the day. "Is Ari here?" he asked. "Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine. His back got cut up a bit by some flying debris and he has a few burns, but he should be okay. He's in surgery right now to remove the shards from his back."

"What happened in there?" Chuck asked.

A frown flickered across Sarah's face as she remembered the events inside the Buy More. "Ari and I ran into the store and pulled the fire alarm. The assistant manager ran up to us and asked us what we were doing. When we showed him our badge and told him what was happening, he started shouting 'pineapple' and everyone started running from the store." She suppressed a shudder at the thought of what came next. "There was an explosion – the bomb must have been somewhere in the back of the store, behind the concrete walls in back. Ari pushed me away from the fireball and behind the counter. That must have been when he got hit in the back with the debris. He was shielding me with his body. Then… Well, then I woke up outside with you."

"So Ari did save your life," Chuck said.

Sarah laid a hand on Chuck's arm. "Yes, he did. And so did you. My Hero. Thank you." She leaned over and gently kissed his cheek.

Despite the feather-soft lightness of her touch, his face burned where her lips touched his cheek. But as to whether it was the sensitivity of his burnt flesh or the fire inherent in her lips, he couldn't say.


	11. Roomies

Thanks, **Poa**, for once again keeping me readable (at least grammatically).

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 11

Roomies

Chuck was decidedly uncomfortable. The shoes they had given him at the hospital were a half size too small; his hands ached; and although the scrubs were better than the hospital gown, he still felt like he was wearing pajamas in public. Worse than all of that, however, was contemplating spending the next few days living in such close proximity to the gorgeous woman beside him. Forget burned and blistered hands. Forget Fulcrum agents putting bamboo shoots under his fingernails. (Did anyone really do that? He'd have to ask Casey; Casey would know.) Real torture was living in close proximity to the most beautiful woman in the world and having her treat you like her brother.

Of course, Chuck had lots of experience in that department. Being the gangly, nerdy kid in school, he had lots of experience with girls he liked who 'just wanted to be friends.' (The three worst words in the English language to a love-struck teenage boy: 'Let's be friends.'). But Sarah was different. There was a connection. He could feel it. Heck, he had felt a literal and quite passionate connection on the dock when they thought they were about to die and in his apartment when Roan goaded them into kissing. He was sure the next several days were going to be the longest of his life. At least the moth circling the flame didn't know it was going to get burned.

Sarah was trying to keep her eyes on the road, but she couldn't help stealing sidelong glances at the man in the car next to her. He was fidgeting in the seat like a schoolboy. Was it because of his burns or was it the thought of living with her for the next few days that was causing him to be so nervous? Was staying with her really that bad? Was he dreading spending time with her that much? Granted, she wasn't the easiest person in the world to get along with. She decided she had to say something.

"Listen, Chuck," she started.

"Hmm? What?" he stammered as she startled him out of his reverie.

"I know that staying with me isn't all that great for you. I mean, I'm sure I'm not the easiest person to live with. You'd probably be more comfortable at Casey's, but there's too much of a chance of you bumping into Ellie or Devon."

"What? No. I'm… It's great. I'm looking forward to being your roomie for a few days," he said without much enthusiasm and then chuckled nervously.

Sarah sighed. What more proof did she need? "It, ah… It'll be good for our cover," she said. "I know Ellie has been pushing a lot lately for us to 'take it to the next level,' as Devon says."

"Mmm hmm," Chuck said. "Our cover." Well, that confirmed it. It was all about the job and the cover. She was probably dreading having to put up with him.

"It might even be fun," she said. "We can catch up on all those movies you've been trying to get me to watch."

"Going to be a blast," Chuck said.

"And look at it this way. It'll give us plenty of time to brainstorm about the mission."

"The mission. Right," Chuck said. Funny, the whole 'living with Sarah' thing had totally driven the thought of the Buy More Bomber out of his mind.

They drove on in awkward silence the rest of the way to Chuck's apartment. Ellie and Awesome were at work, so there was time for them to pack a suitcase for Chuck. Chuck tried to leave Ellie a note, but the pain and the bandages made his handwriting worse than Devon's (Devon was a doctor, after all), so Sarah wrote the note for him. "She'll probably be thrilled to get a note from you, anyway," Chuck told her. Chuck grabbed a box of DVDs to bring to Sarah's hotel; various movies that he had deemed necessary for her proper education in pop culture: _The Princess Bride_, _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_, _Animal House_, _Serenity _(although that meant he had to bring along the complete _Firefly_ series, as well), _Clerks_ and several others. After debating a bit, he tossed in a copy of _Can't Buy Me Love_ in which Patrick Dempsey, of all people, played a nerd who ends up with the pretty, popular girl. Hey, he reasoned, it couldn't hurt to drop a few hints.

Chuck gingerly slung his bag over his shoulder while Sarah carried his suitcase. They headed out to Sarah's car and then drove over to her hotel. After carrying Chuck's bags into the room, they looked at each other nervously. "Well, here we are," Chuck said. He looked around the room. "So, should we order up a cot or something?"

"Chuck, you're my boyfriend staying at my place. Don't you think it would look a little suspicious if I order a cot?"

Chuck looked the room over. "I guess I can sleep on the couch," he said.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come on, Chuck. We can share the bed." She smiled mischievously. "Besides, I know you're going to be keeping your hands to yourself."

That brought a grin to Chuck's face. Chuck sat down on the edge of the bed and Sarah sat down next to him. "Do you really think it's Abdul al Fayed and not Fulcrum who's bombing the Buy Mores?" Chuck asked.

Sarah nodded. "I can't see Fulcrum going about it this way. If they were trying to flush out whoever it was we were protecting, they would have stopped after the first, maybe the second bombing. The third bombing just doesn't make sense for Fulcum. After all, odds are that Buy More will temporarily close all their stores and how does that benefit Fulcrum?"

"So we have a Red Jihad faction loose in Southern California blowing up Buy Mores to get back at Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, for wrecking their organization thirty years ago," Chuck said. "Great." He drew out the word 'great.' "So what's our next step?" he asked.

"Some old fashioned spy work," Sarah replied. "Unfortunately, we have to continue on with what we've been doing: going over the security footage, looking for Red Jihad members, tracing explosives and bomb parts… It's the tedious part of spy work. No glamorous parties. No high-stakes games of baccarat. Just lots of legwork. A lot of it is going to be done by the CIA and FBI forensics teams. They're sifting through the bomb debris, looking for clues."

She yawned. "We can talk about it tomorrow. I think we could both use a good night's sleep. I'll change in the bathroom." She pulled some clothes out of her dresser and headed into the bathroom.

Chuck started to panic. In all the flurry of getting his things, he hadn't thought to pack any pajamas. All he had to sleep in were his boxers and a t-shirt. He dug though his suitcase and then realized – he was wearing the scrubs! Since they felt like pajamas to him, he could just use them as his pajamas. He breathed a sigh of relief and took off his shoes and socks.

The bathroom door opened and Sarah came out dressed in a little cami top and boy shorts. Chuck felt his heart skip a beat and then start to pound out a conga as it moved up into his throat. "Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" she asked him.

"I, ah, didn't have any pajamas so I thought I'd just wear the scrubs."

Sarah shrugged. "Suit yourself. You might be a little warm, though."

"I think that's a given," Chuck muttered.

"What's that, Chuck?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing. Just, um, tired. Yep. Ready for bed. Hit the sack. Saw some logs. Roll in the… I mean, hit the hay."

Sarah grinned at him and Chuck decided right then and there that there was no sight more beautiful than Sarah's smile. Especially when it was directed at him.

Her smile faded just a touch and she bit her bottom lip. "Oh. Well if you're that tired, I guess we can go right to bed. I mean, right to sleep."

"Oh," Chuck said. "Was there, you know, something else you had in mind?"

Sarah blushed a little. She couldn't exactly say what was going through her mind right now. So instead she said, "Well, it was still a little early, so I was thinking, you know, that maybe you wanted to watch a movie… or something… But if you're tired…"

"No!" Chuck said a tad too quickly and just a little too forcefully. He took a breath. "I mean, if you wanted to watch a movie, I guess I'm not that tired."

"Are you sure? Because if you just wanted to go to sleep…"

"No. No. Really. A movie would be, you know… fine."

"Okay… um… Good. Did you want to watch one that you brought, or we could see what's on pay per view."

"Whatever you want to do," Chuck said. "I mean, it's your room."

"How about you pick one."

Chuck walked over to the box of movies he'd brought and reached for _Can't Buy Me Love_, then stopped. 'Maybe not the first night,' he thought. He pulled out _Clerks_ instead. Maybe a little Kevin Smith was the way to go.

Chuck popped in the movie, and then Sarah patted the bed next to her and said, "Well come on. You're blocking the screen."

Chuck climbed onto bed beside her, making sure not to enter the no man's land running through the center of the bed.

Chuck woke the next morning to the sound of a 'whump, whump, whack.' He slowly opened his eyes and sat up in bed. He felt a momentary disorientation at waking up somewhere other than his own room, but then remembered that he had stayed with Sarah last night.

His face felt hot and his hands ached. He looked over to see Sarah punching the heavy bag hanging from her ceiling.

She looked over at him and smiled. "Good morning, Chuck. How did you sleep?"

"Oh, um, fine," Chuck said. He didn't remember falling asleep. They were in bed, watching the movie and… He drew a blank after that. He must have fallen asleep in the middle of the movie.

"Sorry for waking you," she said. "But I thought it was about time for you to get up anyway. Can't have you lazing in bed all day."

Chuck looked over at the alarm clock; the same one he had given her two Christmases ago. Seven fifteen. He stretched and yawned. "I better get moving. I'm going to be late."

"Chuck, I don't think you should go to the Buy More today. It'll raise too many questions about how you got hurt. Casey can take care of the store. Besides, I can't imagine that they would open the stores today anyway."

"Ah, but if we don't open, then we're 'letting the terrorists win'," Chuck said with the hint of a smile to show that he was being a little bit facetious.

Chuck's phone buzzed and he reached over to the night stand and picked it up. "Hmm," he said. "Buy More Corporation. You must be right. They're probably calling to tell me not to come in today."

Chuck hit the 'receive call' button. "Hello? This is Chuck Bartowski."

An officious-sounding woman's voice said, "Please hold for Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More."

'Moses Finkelstein,' Chuck mouthed to Sarah, putting his thumb over the mike on the phone to make sure he wasn't heard on the other end.

"Chuck Bartowski? This is Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. How are you this morning, young man?"

"Um, fine sir. Thank you for asking. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to see you in my office this morning. I'll send a car around for you there at your apartment. Say, thirty minutes?"

"I'm, uh, sorry sir. I just got up and… well, I'm not at my apartment. I know you're a busy man and all, and I hate to keep you waiting, but can we make it an hour?"

There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone. "Of course. Of course. One hour. I'll send my driver."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Chuck said. The line clicked dead.

"What was that all about?" Sarah asked.

"Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, wants to see me in his office," Chuck said. "He's sending a car to my apartment in an hour."

"Do you know why?" Sarah asked.

Chuck shook his head. "No idea," he said.

Sarah frowned. "We'll put a bug on you and Casey and I will listen in," she said. Then she shrugged. "Well, I guess we're going to have to get you cleaned up."

Chuck looked down at his gauze-covered hands. "Um," he said. "I'm not supposed to get my hands wet. How am I supposed to take my shower?"

"I guess you'll just have to take a bath," Sarah said. "I'll give you a hand."

"Oh. Okay, I…" And then the implications of what she said kicked in. "What do you mean, give me a hand?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, you can't exactly wash yourself without getting your hands wet," Sarah said. She stepped into the bathroom and started the water running for his bath.

Chuck stood there with a deer-in-the-headlights look. Okay. Facing down armed mercenaries? No problem. Jumping off a building? No sweat. Running into a burning building? Piece of cake. Sitting in a bathtub while Sarah washed him? Danger Will Robinson! Danger!

"Um, Sarah? I think I can probably take care of it myself," he said.

Sarah poked her head out of the bathroom door; she was obviously kneeling next to the tub. "What was that, Chuck?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the water filling the tub.

"I said," Chuck replied, raising his voice, "I think I can probably take a bath by myself."

"Chuck, don't be silly. I don't mind. Now get undressed. You're going to be late."

Chuck started to reply, but Sarah ducked her head back into the bathroom. With all the enthusiasm of a man taking the last walk to the gallows, Chuck stripped off the scrubs but left on his underwear. 'Just like a swimsuit,' he told himself. 'Just like a swimsuit.'

He padded over to the bathroom and stood in the doorway. Sarah smiled at seeing him still wearing his boxers. "Okay, Chuck, into the tub. And be careful. I don't want you to get your hands wet."

The tub was filled with bubbles. Chuck stepped into the tub and sniffed. "Lilacs?" he asked.

Sarah shrugged and grinned up at him. "Sorry. I'm all out of manly bubble bath."

Chuck sighed and lowered himself into the water with Sarah holding his elbow to steady him. "Okay, just relax," she said.

'Easy for you to say,' he thought. He felt as tense as an over-wound watch. Sarah picked up a washcloth and some soap and started to gently scrub his upper torso. Chuck was glad the bubbles hid his lower torso.

Sarah was gentle but thorough and with her soothing ministrations he slowly started to relax. She took extra care with his face, barely dabbing his raw flesh to avoid hurting him. "Okay, lean back," she said. He did and she poured water over his head. She poured a little shampoo in her palm and then started to gently work it into his hair.

"Vanilla?" he asked, sniffing at the shampoo.

"It's my favorite," she replied.

Chuck wasn't sure how he was going to concentrate if he went through the day smelling faintly of Sarah and her lilacs and vanilla. Such sweet torture.

Chuck had always enjoyed having the stylist shampoo his hair. There was something soothing and rather sensual about someone gently massaging your scalp. Chuck closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. Sarah rinsed his hair and then poured more shampoo in her hand before working it in again. She poured more water over his head, careful to avoid getting any on his face. Finally, she picked up a towel and patted his hair.

Chuck opened his eyes and looked at her. She was smiling sweetly at him. "Thank you," he said softly.

"Wait, I'm not done," she said.

She stepped over to the sink and came back with his razor and some shaving cream. "You're not…" he started to say.

She gave him a mischievous smile. "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?" she asked.

"Completely," he replied nervously.

If having Sarah wash his hair was sensual, having her shave him was almost enough to drive him insane. He was almost thankful for the twinges of pain from his burns as she worked the razor; at least it kept him focused. He would wince when that happened and she would quickly apologize and lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. The shave finished, she carefully rinsed his face and then patted it dry.

"Okay," she said. "All clean." Chuck was too nervous to notice how flushed her face was. "Get dressed and then I'll redress those hands."

Chuck looked nervous as he glanced around. Sarah suppressed a giggle, picked up a towel and then turned her back to him as she handed him the towel. "Um, thanks," he said.

"Any time," Sarah breathed, then hurried out of the bathroom before she could do something she would regret later.

Chuck toweled himself and wrapped the towel around his waist. He poked his head out of the bathroom. Sarah was grabbing some clothes. "Let me take a quick shower while you get dressed," she said.

She squeezed past him into the bathroom and he smiled nervously at her. He dressed while she showered, deciding that his Nerd Herd Uniform was a safe bet for a meeting with Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. The problem was he couldn't tie his shoes or his tie. He felt embarrassed asking Sarah for help, but after several tries left his hands feeling like they were on fire, he flopped on the edge of the bed to wait for her.

Sarah came out of the bathroom wearing a short sleeve blue top and jeans. "I'll only be a minute," she said as she stepped over to the vanity to dry her hair and apply her makeup. Fortunately, training for female spies included quick-changes and fast application of makeup. Chuck watched her, fascinated. She certainly was an expert.

"Ready," she said, standing and turning around. Chuck smiled. She looked beautiful. But then, she always looked beautiful.

She stepped over to the bed and knelt before him to tie his 'Chucks' and then stood to tie his necktie. "I feel like a three year old, having someone bathe me and dress me," he grumbled good-naturedly.

Sarah touched his arm. "Well you wouldn't be in this predicament without me, so it's the least I can do."

She grabbed a tray on which she had placed her first aid supplies. She gently applied the lotion the doctor had given them to his face and then carefully unwrapped his bandaged hands before applying an ointment and then gingerly re-wrapping them with fresh gauze.

He stood and she took a couple moments to straighten his tie, brush a stray curl behind his ear and brush a few wrinkles out of his shirt.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Sarah grabbed her purse, stuck her gun in her waistband and held the door for Chuck.

"Can we stop for donuts?" he asked.

"Chocolate croissants," she countered.

"I can live with that," he said.


	12. I'm Gonna Make Him an Offer

Yes, I have definitely slowed down on the updates. Real Life is getting in the way of my writing, darn it. Ah well, a man's gotta eat.

Thank you again, **Poa**, for looking over my scribbling and catching the myriad mistakes. Two words: Chicken soup.

Okay, on to…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 12

I'm Gonna Make Him an Offer…

Sarah pulled into a parking spot in front of Chuck's building. Ellie's Prius was gone and Sarah had checked Devon's schedule to make sure that he was also at the hospital. The last thing they wanted was to run into Ellie or Awesome and have to explain Chuck's injuries. Of course, Chuck wasn't exactly looking forward to this journey into the lion's den, either. He was sure Casey would still be mad about yesterday. After all, Casey wasn't exactly a live-and-let-live kind of guy.

Sarah hopped out and then hurried around to open Chuck's door for him. She helped him out of the car while Chuck mused about how much he used his hands just to stand up. This was going to get real old, real fast. Of course, the way Sarah doted on him _almost_ made it worth while. Sarah started toward Casey's apartment and Chuck trailed behind her, his pace slowing with each step closer to Casey's apartment.

Sarah turned around. "Come on Chuck. We don't have much time."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Chuck said slowly. "It's just… Sarah, Casey's gonna kill me."

"What?"

"For yesterday. For clocking him. Casey's gonna hurt me, isn't he?"

Sarah smiled at him. "Don't worry, Chuck. He'll have to go through me first. Besides, I have a way to take the heat off you."

Chuck looked dubious. "What's that?"

Sarah gave a little laugh and said, "Just watch. Remember, as Mao Zedong said, 'The only real defense is active defense.'"

"Mao Zedong?" Chuck asked.

"They teach more than Infiltration and Inducement of Enemy Personnel at Spy School, Chuck."

"Okay. So what is 'active defense'?" Chuck asked.

"Watch and learn," Sarah said.

They walked up to Casey's door, Chuck trailing a little behind Sarah and still looking both nervous and confused. Sarah didn't bother to knock. She simply opened the door and barged in. Chuck stopped for a moment at the doorway, thinking that perhaps this was only going to compound his problem, but then he shrugged. If he couldn't trust Sarah…

He rounded the corner just in time to see Sarah walk right up to Casey and glare up at him. "So, what? You were going to just leave me in there?"

Casey actually took a half step back and frowned in confusion of his own. "Walker, what the hell are you talking about?"

Sarah pointed angrily at Chuck. "Semper Fidelis? Leave no man behind? I guess those are just words, huh? You were willing to let Ari and I burn in that building."

"Now wait a minute, Walker. I don't know what Bartowski…"

"Chuck didn't tell me anything. In fact, he was actually trying to defend you. 'Protect the asset' and all that. It was the paramedics who told me how you tried to stop Chuck from going into the store to rescue me."

"That's not what…" Casey tried to say.

Sarah waived her hand. "Water under the bridge. But it's good to know which of my partners I can count on. Now, we need to get Chuck wired for his meeting with Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More."

Casey looked confused and opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again, shrugged, and turned to grab the case with the earwigs in it. Sarah turned and gave Chuck a quick wink, then turned back to Casey and put her hands on her hips, as if she was still irritated at him.

Casey decided to change the subject. "Why does Finkelstein want to see him anyway?"

Sarah suppressed the urge to smile. "No idea. But I don't think he's in any danger."

"Guys," Chuck said, finally injecting himself into the conversation. Casey looked at him and started to growl, but with a look from Sarah he simply frowned. "Guys, how am I supposed to explain these," he held up his bandaged hands, "to Mr. Finkelstein?"

"Say we were cooking and I started to drop a cast iron skillet. You grabbed it to keep it from hitting me, not realizing how hot it was," Sarah said. "Simple and believable. And you still get to play the hero." A smile slowly spread across her face as she said this last.

"And my face?" Chuck asked.

"Fell asleep in the sun like the moron you are," Casey said. "Sunburn."

Chuck frowned. "I suppose that works."

"Come here," Sarah said, putting the earwig in his ear when he stepped in front of her. Chuck used his fingertip to adjust it and worked his jaw a couple times to get it to settle into his ear canal. Sarah spoke into her watch. "Testing, testing."

Chuck nodded. "It's working."

"Good," Sarah said. She looked at her watch. "Finkelstein's driver should be here any minute. Maybe you should go wait outside. Casey and I will follow in the van."

"Okay," Chuck said. He was obviously nervous and slightly dubious about this meeting. Sarah stepped over to him and laid a hand on his arm.

"It's going to be okay, Chuck," she said. "You'll do fine. Casey and I will be there the whole time."

Chuck nodded. He looked a little more at ease, but still not completely convinced. Sarah straightened his tie and brushed a few wrinkles out of his shirt. "You'll knock him dead," she said. "He's obviously just recognized what a tremendous asset you are to the Buy More."

That brought a grin to Chuck's face. "Hopefully not literally. The knocking dead part, I mean."

Sarah and Casey hurried out to the van and Sarah climbed in the back while Casey slid into the driver's seat. Sarah checked over the equipment, including checking the GPS signal from Chuck's watch before keying the mic. "Can you hear me, Chuck?"

"I hear you, Sarah," he said. "Here comes the limo."

"Good," Sarah said. "We'll track you on the GPS. Casey and I are going to proceed to Buy More corporate offices so it doesn't look like we're tailing you."

"Okay," Chuck replied.

Chuck watched the long, black limo glide to the curb. He started to rub his sweaty palms on his pants, but remembering his bandages he stopped and took a deep breath. The driver hopped out – a huge man, Chuck noticed, whose chauffeur's uniform did little to hide his bulky muscles and thick neck. He jogged around to the back of the car and opened the door. A long, shapely leg emerged, followed by the owner of that leg – Amelia Banks: former Special Forces sergeant and personal assistant and bodyguard to Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More.

She stood and automatically smoothed her skirt before offering a hand to Chuck. "Mr. Bartowski. Amelia Banks. Mr. Finkelstein sent me to collect you."

Chuck held up his own bandaged hands. "Sorry," he said. "Cooking accident." At least, Chuck thought, the bandages hid how badly his palms were sweating. Which was actually starting to sting a little, now that he thought about it.

Amelia nodded and lowered her hand. Chuck looked her over. He had no doubt that, like Sarah, this woman could easily kick his ass. Although she was in a severe suit and had her hair in a tight bun, Chuck could see that she could be quite attractive if she tried. "A pleasure to see you again, Ms. Banks," he said.

He was waiting for her to say, 'Please, call me Amelia,' but instead she said, "We shouldn't keep Mr. Finkelstein waiting. Shall we?" She motioned to the open door of the limousine. Chuck climbed in. The interior was plush – one of the nicer limos that he had ridden in. That thought alone pointed out how crazy his life had become. Two years ago, he had never ridden in a limo. Well, except for the one time he and four friends had rented a cheap limo to pick up their five prom dates. That limo had smelled of cigarettes and cheap booze. Now, the Charles Carmichael part of his personality was comparing limousine interiors.

Chuck took the seat in the back while Amelia climbed in and took one of the side seats. The driver closed the door and then jogged around to climb back behind the wheel. Chuck looked nervously around the back of the limo, trying to avoid looking at Amelia's legs, while he patted his knees with his fingers.

"So, ah, this thing have an iPod dock? I could put on some tunes," he said.

Amelia looked down her nose at him. "No," she said.

Chuck went back to tapping his knees.

"You know, if Mr. Finkelstein brought it in I betcha we could have one hooked up in no time. This thing must have a killer stereo."

Amelia looked at him. "I wouldn't know," she responded, then turned back to look straight ahead.

Chuck tapped his knees some more.

"Must not get very good gas mileage, though. You know, being so big and all."

Amelia looked at him again. "Again, I wouldn't know." Then her head swiveled back to the front.

He went back to tapping, then crossed his legs, uncrossed them, and then crossed them the other way.

"So why does Mr. Finkelstein want to see me?" he finally blurted out.

Amelia looked at him again. "I…"

"Yeah, you wouldn't know," Chuck supplied.

Amelia raised an eyebrow and Chuck thought he detected the barest lifting of the corner of her mouth.

"I'm just kind of nervous," he said. "You can understand that, right? I mean, I'm just the supervisor of the Nerd Herd of the Burbank store and he's Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. The head Nerd Herder himself. The big cheese. The head honcho…"

"Quit blathering, idiot," Casey's voice snarled in his ear.

"… el jefe," Chuck finished in a much more subdued voice.

And then something amazing happened. Amelia Banks, former Special Forces sergeant and personal assistant and bodyguard to Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, actually cracked a smile. Okay, it was a little more lifting of the corners of her mouth. Maybe just one corner, actually. But her eyes softened enough for Chuck to tell that it was an honest-to-goodness, almost, maybe smile. So Chuck did what he always did in such situations, he smiled back and forged ahead.

"I'm babbling, aren't I?" he asked.

Amelia nodded. A hint of a nod, but just enough to tell that it was a nod. "Just a little," she replied.

"I tend to do that when I'm nervous," he said. "Bad habit, really. I mean, look at you. I bet you never babble. Cool, collected, professional. Not that you couldn't… And now I'm babbling again. You know, if you could just tell Lurch up there to slow down, I could just throw myself from the car right now and save you the trouble."

Now both corners of her mouth definitely went up, albeit slightly. "I don't think Davis would appreciate you calling him 'Lurch,'" she said.

"Well, considering he looks like he could snap me in half with just two fingers, I hope you won't tell him that."

Amelia actually shifted a little in her seat toward Chuck. "I believe that I can keep that information confidential," she replied.

"And that'll cost me, what, my first born? My left ear? My Ex Machina comic book collection?"

"I might go for the comic books," Amelia said.

Chuck grinned. "I might prefer to be snapped in half."

Amelia nodded solemnly. "I understand. It would be hard to give up on Mitchell Hundred."

"_You_ read Ex Machina?" Chuck asked, surprised.

"My ex boyfriend got me hooked," Amelia said.

"We're here, Ms. Banks," the driver interrupted over the intercom.

Amelia touched a button. "Thank you, Davis." She turned to Chuck. "Don't worry. Moses likes you. You're not in trouble."

Chuck smiled as the car glided to a stop. The door opened a few moments later. Chuck got out first, and then offered Amelia his hand to help her out.

"Thank you, Mr. Bartowski," she said, once again the ice queen, although she was careful to take only his unbandaged fingers in hers. "If you will follow me."

The corporate offices of Buy More Corporation were in a gleaming glass and steel five story building in an office park in Playa Del Rey, overlooking the Pacific and adjoining LAX. Chuck glanced around and noted a familiar black van parked in the lot of a neighboring office tower. Chuck had also spent enough time with Sarah and Casey to recognize the heavy security of the Buy More building, including security guards with noticeable bulges in their coats and rows of concrete planters surrounding the building that looked sturdy enough to stop a tank.

The lobby of the building was decorated in green and yellow and a huge portrait of Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, dominated one wall. Across from the portrait was a life-size bronze statue of Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More.

A guard behind the desk nodded to Amelia, who still reached into her valise and extracted an identification card which she touched to a scanner on the desk. "This is Mr. Charles Bartowski; he has a meeting with Mr. Finkelstein."

"May I see some identification?" the guard asked.

Chuck reached in his pocket and pulled out his Nerd Herd badge. "Will this do?" he asked.

"Government issue I.D., please," the guard said. Chuck dug in his wallet and pulled out his driver's license. The guard took it, compared the picture to Chuck's face, and then ran it through a scanner. He made a note on a computer log and then handed Chuck his license and a Visitor badge. "Please wear this at all times."

"Thank you," Chuck replied, taking his license and the badge from the guard.

Amelia led him past the main bank of elevators to a single elevator at the far end. She inserted her badge in a slot and the elevator doors opened with a soft chime. She motioned Chuck inside the elevator and he noticed that there were no buttons inside, only a card slot. Once inside the elevator, Amelia inserted her badge in the slot. The doors closed and the elevator shot quickly upwards.

When the elevator doors opened, they were confronted by another reception desk. "Good morning, Ms. Banks," the woman at the desk said, checking both her badge and Chuck's. "Mr. Finkelstein is expecting you."

Amelia led Chuck down a short hallway to a huge pair of polished mahogany doors. The doors swung silently and effortlessly inward at her touch.

Moses Finkelstein's office was huge. One wall was covered with half a dozen huge plasma televisions. Another wall was covered with bookshelves lined with mementos, antiques and pictures of Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, meeting with various leaders and dignitaries around the world. One corner of the office had a polished steel and glass conference table with plush black leather chairs. The other corner had three couches and a pair of wingback chairs surrounding a gleaming chrome and glass coffee table. The far end of the room, across from the doors and positioned in front of floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the ocean, was a massive oak desk with four computer monitors, an enormous leather executive chair behind it and two smaller wing-back chairs in front of it.

Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, rose from behind the desk when Chuck and Amelia entered. He was dressed in his ubiquitous green suit with yellow tie and was smiling broadly.

"Ah, Mr. Bartowski. So glad you could join us this morning." Chuck accepted Mr. Finkelstein's outstretched hand and winced when their hands met. Fortunately, Mr. Finkelstein did not squeeze his hand. Chuck thought it might be bad form to faint in his boss', boss', boss', boss' office.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Finkelstein," Chuck said, trying not to scream.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water? Bloody Mary?"

"Um, no, sir," Chuck replied. He paused. "Well, maybe some water?"

"Amelia?"

Amelia stepped over to a wet bar on the wall with all the bookcases and poured Chuck a glass of water in a Waterford tumbler and brought it to him along with a Buy More coffee mug for Mr. Finkelstein.

Instead of sitting down at his desk, Mr. Finkelstein led Chuck over to the 'conversation pit' formed by the couches and chairs. He motioned Chuck to a couch and Chuck sat down. The leather of the couch gave a loud 'thpppttt' when Chuck sat down.

"Way to go, Bartowski," Casey's voice sounded in Chuck's ear. "You sure know how to make an impression." Chuck was chagrined at the noise, but oddly reassured by Casey's ribbing.

Mr. Finkelstein took one of the chairs facing Chuck's couch. Amelia took up a position standing just behind Mr. Finkelstein's chair, her hand resting on the back of the chair.

"First things first," Mr. Finkelstein said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small device about the size of a Dictaphone. He hit a button on top and suddenly Chuck's earwig exploded in a burst of static and painful feedback.

Chuck winced and pulled the earwig from his ear.

Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, smiled at him with a smile that would have been at home on a shark. "So, Mr. Bartowski," he said. "How long have you been a spy?"


	13. He Can't Refuse

Lucky number 13. You know, when I started this fic, I was figuring on about 8-10 chapters. Oh well. "The best laid plans of mice and men…"

Thanks again to **Poa** for editing my sloppy writing. And thanks to **MySoapBox** for letting me bounce a couple ideas off of her and for making a couple suggestions regarding Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More.

So are you ready for…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 13

… He Can't Refuse

"First things first," Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small device about the size of a Dictaphone. He hit a button on top and suddenly Chuck's earwig exploded in a burst of static and painful feedback.

Chuck winced and pulled the earwig from his ear.

In a black van in the parking lot adjoining the Buy More corporate offices, Sarah and Casey simultaneously yanked off their headphones as feedback yowled painfully in their ears. "What was that?" Sarah asked.

Casey began to furiously stab at buttons, checking the equipment. "Equipment checks out," he said. "We're being jammed on Chuck's end." He pulled out his pistol and pulled the slide back.

Sarah laid a hand on his arm. "Casey, wait. We don't know what's happening. If we go in guns blazing, we'll blow Chuck's cover. Let me see if I can tap into their security feed first."

Casey gave an unsatisfied grunt. It had been awhile since he got to go in, guns blazing, and he was getting a little hungry.

In the office above, Moses Finkelstein (etc.)* smiled a predatory smile at Chuck and said, "So, Mr. Bartowski, how long have you been a spy?"

"I, um, I'm not sure what you're talking about, sir," Chuck stammered. "I, ah, is this some sort of test or something?"

Mr. Finkelstein shook his head sadly. "Please, Mr. Bartowski. I don't think that earwigs are standard issue for my Nerd Herders."

Chuck glanced down at the earwig sitting on the coffee table. "Um, hearing aid?" he said. "A little too much rock and roll, if you know what I mean. I, ah, stood a little too close to the speakers at a Tyler Martin concert…"

"Please, Mr. Bartowski… Charles. Can I call you Charles?"

Chuck glanced nervously back down at the earwig, and then back up at Mr. Finkelstein. "Charles is fine… Or Chuck… They usually call me 'Chuck'."

"Chuck, then," Mr. Finkelstein said, reaching down to pick up the earwig. He turned it over in his fingers. "GIG-12. CIA issue, if I am not mistaken."

"I'm not sure I follow you," Chuck said.

Mr. Finkelstein tossed the earwig back onto the coffee table where it bounced twice before coming to a stop at the far end. "Did the CIA recruit you before or after you started working at my store?"

"Sir, please. I'm just the supervisor of a Nerd Herd…"

Mr. Finkelstein said nothing, instead reaching down to pick up a large, multi-function remote that almost made Chuck drool with envy. He turned toward the wall of six large plasma TVs and hit some buttons on the remote. On each of the six, sixty-inch screens, the same image appeared: the amateur video of Chuck running into the burning Buy More.

Chuck winced and glanced down at his bandaged hands. Fortunately, Mr. Finkelstein and his assistant, Amelia, were looking at the screens. "Quite a brave thing," Mr. Finkelstein said, "running into a burning building like that." He paused the video and turned back to Chuck.

"I wanted to thank the FBI agents personally for their heroism. Imagine my surprise when I called the FBI office and they told me that they didn't have any agents in North Hollywood that day."

"Imagine that," Chuck said.

"Fortunately, Competition Securities had already set up the security cameras in the North Hollywood store to transmit their surveillance video to our local server. Some of the cameras were damaged, but because the blast was in the back of the store, the servers at the store survived the initial blast, as did some of the cameras."

Mr. Finkelstein turned around and hit another button on the remote. On the screens, a new series of images replaced the amateur video. It had the slightly grainy, black and white, jerky motion of a security camera. The first frame was of a parking lot. It was slightly obscured by smoke and one could just make out debris littering the ground. In the next frame, a figure appeared running toward the camera. The next few frames showed the figure getting closer.

When the figure was near the bottom of the frame and thus closest to the camera, Mr. Finkelstein paused the video.

"This is the FBI agent that ran into the building," Mr. Finkelstein said, turning back to Chuck. "Does he look familiar?"

Chuck was staring at the screen. He licked his lips and slowly shook his head. Then he blinked and turned to Mr. Finkelstein. "No. No, I don't recognize him. Should I?"

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) smiled. "I would hope so. I had one of my technicians enhance the image." Still watching Chuck, he pointed the remote toward the video wall and hit a button. Chuck's face, his expression frozen in shock and determination, filled the screen.

Sarah slammed a hand against the arm of her chair. "Dammit, I can't get in!" she complained. "It's one of the best security setups I've ever seen. They've got firewalls protecting their firewalls."

Casey stood, stuffed his pistol in the back of his pants and grabbed a pistol-grip shotgun and a bandolier with extra shells. "So I guess we do this the old fashioned way."

Sarah gave him an exasperated look. "Casey, the place is like Fort Knox. We wouldn't get past the lobby. We need some other way in. Have you got your Buy More uniform?"

Casey nodded. "Why?"

"I've got an idea."

Chuck took a deep breath and willed his heart to stop pounding so hard. Surely Mr. Finkelstein could hear the rapid 'thump, thump, thump' that seemed to drown out every other sound in the room. Chuck forced himself to look away from the screen and tried to plaster a pleasant smile on his face. "Imagine that," he said.

Instead of replying, Mr. Finkelstein hit another button on the remote. A new series of images appeared – these obviously from a camera inside the store. The image was skewed at a crazy angle, the camera no doubt having been knocked loose by the blast. A figure with dark, curly hair entered the frame. Even without enhancement, it was clearly Chuck Bartowski. The look of shock was gone, but the look of determination was even more evident. The next couple frames showed swirling smoke and debris, and then John Casey appeared and disappeared from the frame.

"Your partner," Mr. Finkelstein said. It was not a question. He let the video continue to run until Chuck staggered into the frame with Sarah in his arms, then out of the frame. Moments later, Casey appeared in the frame with Ari slung over his shoulder. Mr. Finkelstein hit a button and Chuck's face from the first camera reappeared on the screen. He set down the remote and turned back to Chuck.

"I am grateful," Mr. Finkelstein said. "You and your team saved a number of my employees, as well as David Cohen, my security consultant." He nodded down at Chuck's hands. "And you were injured in the process, apparently. Burns?"

Chuck nodded. He started to say something but Mr. Finkelstein held up a hand.

"You are, of course, not FBI, are you? There would be no reason for the FBI to deny that they had agents there when you were acting so openly."

"No," Chuck agreed. "I'm not with the FBI."

"You are a rare man, Chuck. I wonder if you even understand how rare. There are very few men who would have run into that building. Fewer still who could keep their wits about them and complete the mission."

Chuck couldn't help but swelling with pride just a little at Mr. Finkelstein's praise, but at the word 'mission' he was brought crashing back down. How much did Mr. Finkelstein know?

Mr. Finkelstein sensed his distress. "Don't worry. I don't intend to expose you or your team. I did, however, want to discuss a proposition with you."

Chuck glanced back up to the video wall and then over at the earwig. He desperately wished that Sarah could whisper in his ear, telling him what to do. But he was on his own. At least Moses Finkelstein (etc.) didn't seem to know about the Intersect or Sarah and Casey's real mission. There was only one thing to do – assume his standard fallback position.

"Carmichael," he said. "Special Agent Charles Carmichael, CIA. But you can call me Charles."

Mr. Finkelstein laughed. "No, Mr. Bartowski. Charles Carmichael may be your cover, but I know who you really are."

Chuck felt his stomach tighten.

Sarah, dressed in her provocative Nerd Herd uniform, and Casey, in his green shirt and khaki pants, entered the lobby of Buy More corporate headquarters. Every eye followed Sarah as she flounced toward the desk. "Hi. I'm Sarah Weaver, Buy More Nerd Herd, Beverly Hills branch. I was supposed to come down for some sort of training session today? This is my friend, John Casey. He works with me. He gave me a ride."

The guard at the desk checked his log. "There's a UNIX training session that started ten minutes ago, but I don't see any Sarah Weaver on the roster."

Sarah turned to Casey. "Ten minutes ago! We're late. I _told_ you we shouldn't have taken the 505, but no! _You_ said it would be faster. _You_ said that we'd be here in plenty of time." She whacked Casey on the arm with each emphasized word.

"Mr. Barclay is going to fire me if I don't go to that training session," she wailed. "I'm going to have to go back to working at Hooters!" She was crying now, and Casey was awkwardly patting her back.

"So you know how degrading working at Hooters is?" she wailed at the guard. "All those men pinching your butt." She gave a shiver and then started crying again.

"Wait! Wait!" the guard said, pulling out two visitor badges. "I guess I can let you in. The training room is on the third floor, room 307. I'll need to see some…"

Sarah ran around the desk and gave the security guard a hug. "Oh, thank you," she said, kissing his cheek. "I don't know how I can ever… I mean it's just so nice… I mean…" She started crying again and Casey snatched the visitors badges and came around the counter to pry her off of the guard.

"Come on, Sarah. Let's get you up to the third floor." He hustled Sarah off to the elevator.

The security guard sat there, a little stunned, rubbing his cheek where Sarah had kissed it. He could think of several ways she could repay him. And since he had scanned her ID, he could… He looked down. Somehow in all the confusion he hadn't gotten their IDs. Oh well, he'd head on up to the training room once his partner got back and check her out.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) held up a hand and Amelia Banks, his assistant/bodyguard, reached in her valise and pulled out a file which she placed in his hand. Mr. Finkelstein placed the file in his lap and opened it. "Charles Irving Bartowski. Born: September 24, 1980, Sherman Oaks, California. Son of Stephen Bartowski, engineer. One sister, Eleanor Faye Bartowski, Doctor, Westside Medical Center.

"Let's see. Graduated salutatorian from Johnny Mueller High School, Tarzana, California. You really were robbed, you know. They never should have given Deborah Whitfield the extra credit for that poetry slam. Attended Stanford University on an academic scholarship. Expelled for cheating his senior year when stolen exams were found hidden under his bed."

Chuck fidgeted in his chair. He glanced over at the doorway, hoping that Sarah and Casey would come bursting in any moment. Unfortunately, the door remained closed.

"Applied for and obtained a job at the Buy More in Burbank, California as a sales associate. After seven months, promoted to the Nerd Herd. Three years later, promoted to supervisor of the Nerd Herd. Applied for the position of Assistant Manager in 2007. Failed to show up at the interview, so the position was given to Harry Tiberias Tang. Tang then suddenly and mysteriously moved to Hawaii. Offered the position of Assistant Manager again. Turned it down. Curious."

He glanced up at Chuck who tried to meet his gaze with what he hoped was bored disinterest, but he suspected he was failing miserably. He glanced up at Amelia, who was staring straight ahead as if not listening to a word.

"And then, Stanford gave you a degree. Electrical Engineering…with honors. Odd for a man who was unceremoniously expelled."

"They discovered I was wrongly accused and allowed me to complete my degree through some online courses," Chuck replied.

"Please, Mr. Bartowski. I am being honest with you. Surely you can be honest with me. I know how the intelligence agencies operate. The CIA arranged for you to be falsely accused of cheating so that they could recruit you."

Chuck tried to maintain a passive, stoic silence. But he felt his stomach doing flip-flops.

"Then, when it suited them for you to obtain your degree, they smoothed over things with Stanford and obtained your degree for you. Unfortunately, that is undoubtedly because you have finished whatever your mission is here and they intend to move you out of your current cover as a Nerd Herd supervisor at my Burbank store. And frankly, you are probably the only person capable of holding that store together. So I must, as they say, strike while the iron is hot."

He glanced back down at Chuck's folder and shuffled through a few papers. "The CIA really did choose wisely in putting you in the Burbank store. Do you realize that if you had been in any other store you would have been promoted into upper management by now? Look at your record. Exemplary employee. The highest marks in each and every one of the technology training courses. Outstanding customer service comments. And the I.Q. test you took as part of your management application… Well, let's just say that you might be the only person in the company nearly as smart as I am."

Mr. Finkelstein handed the folder back to Amelia, who placed it back in her valise. He stood and walked over to stand in front of the video screens, on which Chuck's face was still frozen.

"It really was an incredibly brave thing you did, going into the store to rescue that woman. Who is she? One of your partners, I assume?"

Chuck looked at Mr. Finkelstein but didn't say anything. Where were Sarah and Casey? Surely once they lost the wire they would come barging in to save him.

Once on the elevator, Sarah quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled a hand-held scanner from her bag. "It looks like he's on the top floor," she said. "He must be in Finkelstein's office."

"What do you supposed they're doing to him?" Casey asked. "Interrogation? Torture?"

Sarah shook her head. Leave it to Casey to always think the worst. "It could be nothing, Casey. Maybe Finkelstein is just fanatical about security. He is ex-Mossad, after all. The jammer could just be a standard precaution. That's why we have to be careful."

Casey grunted. He pulled his pistol from his waistband and checked the magazine again, chambered a round and held it down at his side. The elevator reached the top and the doors 'dinged' open. Sarah and Casey carefully peered out. The elevator opened onto an empty hallway. Sarah checked the scanner. "He's one more floor up. Finkelstein must use a separate elevator. We need to find a stairwell."

Chuck sat silently, waiting for Moses Finkelstein (etc.) to continue. Obviously he was going somewhere with all of this. He wasn't just outing a suspected CIA agent for the fun of it. At least Chuck didn't think so. Given the weird assortment of characters he had met the last two years, (not to mention the weird assortment of characters he worked with) anything was possible.

Mr. Finkelstein turned and looked at Chuck. "You know, I used to be a spy myself. Not CIA, of course. I was with Mossad. A damn good agent, too. Although I'm sure that Ari Schwartz has told you all about that."

Interesting, Chuck thought. Earlier, he had referred to Ari by his cover name, David Cohen. Now he was implicitly acknowledging Ari as an agent. Evidently Mr. Finkelstein was serious when he said that he was going to be honest with him.

Mr. Finkelstein walked over and stood in front of the windows, looking out, as if he was a million miles away, remembering that earlier life. The silence hung heavy in the room and Chuck stared at Mr. Finkelstein, wondering what was coming next.

"Here's the stairwell," Casey said, indicating a door at the end of the hallway. "It's locked." He pulled his gun and covered the hallway while Sarah pulled out a scanner and connected it to the electronic lock. She waited while the scanner ran through the possible permutations to find the proper code and then the door clicked open.

Casey grunted in satisfaction and pulled the door open. Sarah darted in and looked around, then ducked back around the corner. "Security camera, next landing. It's covering the stairs."

Casey nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a device that looked like a small flashlight. He checked it, then nodded. Sarah yanked the door open and Casey flashed the device at the camera. An invisible beam of intense EM radiation shot out of the end of the device and fried the CCD's of the security camera.

"Somebody will be by to check on it soon," Casey said. "We need to move." He leapt into the stairwell and started up the stairs two at a time, gun at the ready.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) continued to stare out the window. The silence was growing uncomfortable and Chuck started squirming in his seat. "You, ah, said you had a proposition, Mr. Finkelstein, sir," Chuck said.

Mr. Finkelstein turned around. "So I did. So I did. And please, Chuck, call me 'Moses'."

Chuck nodded. "Yes, sir."

Moses walked slowly back toward Chuck. "Chuck, the Buy More is only one part of my business empire. The most visible part, to be sure, but still only a part." He put his hands behind his back and began to pace the floor in front of Chuck. "I am not a young man, Chuck. I've made many enemies over my lifetime. One of them, Abdul al Fayed, is trying even now to destroy what I've built. He's the one planting the bombs in my stores. Part of some twisted revenge for capturing him some thirty years ago."

Chuck watched Moses pace the room, back and forth, back and forth, like a tiger taking the measure of his cage.

He suddenly stopped pacing and whirled to face Chuck. "He will not succeed!" He slammed his fist into his palm for emphasis. "I have friends. Very powerful, very _ruthless_ friends." He smiled at that thought. "They will insure that al Fayed fails, and that he will pay dearly for what he has done. But even so, he has no idea what he is up against. He sees only Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. He doesn't realize that he is seeing only the tip of the iceberg."

"What does all this have to do with me?" Chuck asked.

Moses turned back to Chuck. "The skills that I learned as a spy have served me well in my business dealings. The ruthlessness, the strategic thinking, the ability to improvise and to think one step ahead of my opponent. These are the skills I have used to build all this," he flung his hands up, indicating the vast empire he was describing.

Chuck looked at him dubiously. This was starting to sound more and more like the villain's speech from a Bond film.

Moses lowered his hands and smiled at Chuck almost tenderly. "al Fayed has, in a way, done me a favor. He has made me realize me my one, true weakness. The chink in my armor, if you will. I have built an empire, it's true." His voice started to rise again. "An empire that _must_ be my legacy. That _must_ survive me." He was pounding his fist again, emphasizing his words. "He has made me realize my Achilles' heel – the one way he truly can destroy all that I have built. He can blow up a few buildings, fine. But if he can get to _me_, if he can kill _me_, then it will be the end of my empire. The end of all I have built…"

He looked directly at Chuck and his voice softened again. "…unless there is someone, someone I can trust, someone I have groomed as my successor, my heir, to take my place. Someone with the skills, the intelligence, the _courage_ to continue what I started."

He walked over and sat back down in the chair facing Chuck, but leaned forward and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "Alexander built the greatest empire the world has ever known, stretching from Greece to India. Yet when he died, his lieutenants dismantled his empire into squabbling little fiefdoms. _He_ failed to plan for his own succession. _I_ will not make the same mistake."

He looked at Chuck with a gaze so intense Chuck could almost feel the heat of it on his burned skin. "I have decided to train an heir apparent. An apprentice, if you will, who can manage my holdings when I am gone. Someone with the skills to continue, to expand the empire I have built. Someone I can train and nurture to take over my empire so that one day I can retire and enjoy the fruits of my labor. And so that my legacy will live on after me."

He reached over and clamped Chuck's knee in a vice-like grip. "I've chosen you to be that man. I want you, Charles Bartowski, to be my apprentice."

Author's Note: Some of you have noted that every time anyone uses Moses Finkelstein's full name, they always add "Founder and CEO of Buy More" (Emmett's line from _Chuck versus the Sensei_). It was a rather lame attempt at a running gag but it was getting a little old. I was considering dropping it altogether when **WafflemanX** suggested "Moses Finkelstein (etc.)" as a substitute. I thought that was funny (even if the running gag wasn't) so it has been added as an homage to reviewer extraordinaire and tasty breakfast treat **WafflemanX**. (Who was that masked breakfast food?)


	14. Everything's Negotiable

Sigh Real Life has been getting in the way so it took a lot longer for this update than I intended. Between work, computer problems, obsessing over the last couple Chuck episodes, etc., writing has just been a little lower on the list. That and the fact that I am finding this story much harder to write than my previous stories. So sorry for the delay.

As ever, thank you to my editor, **Poa**, for her suggestions, corrections and above all encouragement. You're a wonder, **Poa**. You really are.

Enough with the author dreck. On with…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 14

Everything's Negotiable

Having fried the security camera in the stairwell, Sarah and Casey knew they didn't have much time to get to Chuck before all hell broke loose. Unfortunately, while they knew Chuck's location thanks to the GPS locator on his watch (which, thankfully, broadcast on a different frequency than Chuck's wire), they didn't know his current condition. If they went in guns blazing, then Chuck's cover was definitely blown if it hadn't been already.

They reached the door at the top of the stairwell and Sarah pulled out her scanner and hooked it into the security panel for the door. She and Casey both kept glancing up at the camera and then back down the stairwell as they waited for the mini-computer to crack the code for the door. There was a beep and the click of the door lock opening. Sarah opened the door and peeked out. Luck was with them. The door opened into a deserted hallway. Sarah tucked her pistol in the back of her Nerd Herder skirt and slipped out the door. With a grumble, Casey hid his gun in his waistband and followed her.

Sarah glanced at the scanner in her hand and quickly determined that Chuck was in the room at the end of the long hallway - the one with the massive polished mahogany doors. She jerked her head toward the door and Casey nodded once, then took up a position to watch the other end of the hall. Sarah moved quickly and quietly to the doors and pulled a long tube out of her scanner, which she slipped under the door. With the press of a button, she could now see and hear what went on inside the room.

She wormed the mini camera around to scan the room, first catching sight of Chuck's picture on the six large plasma screens on one wall. She then panned it slowly across the room, past the huge desk, until she caught sight of the chairs and couches arrayed around a coffee table. She stopped when she came to the unmistakable sight of Chuck's unruly curls. He was seated on a couch with his back to the door. Moses Finkelstein (etc.) sat in a chair facing the door. He was leaning close to Chuck while Amelia Banks, Mr. Finkelstein's personal assistant/bodyguard, was standing behind Mr. Finkelstein's chair, her hand resting lightly on the back of it.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) was speaking softly and Sarah had to strain to hear his words. She leaned closer to the scanner. She could barely make out his next words.

Sarah gasped and Casey leaned in close to her. "What is it, torture?"

Sarah hit a button on her scanner and the last few seconds of video played back. Casey strained to hear the words. When he did, he shook his head. "Again," he said, listening carefully to make sure he understood Mr. Finkelstein's last comment.

He looked at Sarah with a questioning look and she nodded. They obviously both had heard the same thing: 'I've chosen you to be that man. I want you, Charles Bartowski, to be my apprentice.'

"What the hell has the geek gotten himself into this time?" Casey whispered.

Inside the office, Chuck Bartowski was wondering much the same thing. "Excuse me, sir?" he asked.

Moses patted his knee and sat back. "You heard me, Charles. I want you to be my apprentice. My heir apparent. I am going to train you to run my business empire."

Chuck was stunned. He was half expecting Ashton Kutcher to step out and tell him he'd been 'punked.' He looked at Moses. He was smiling benevolently and nodding slightly, as if he had just announced the cure for cancer.

Chuck's mind was whirling. Of all the things that he was even remotely expecting when he was summoned to Moses Finkelstein's office, he couldn't have imagined this in his wildest dreams. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times and then berated himself for no doubt looking like a fish out of water.

"But, why me, sir?" Chuck asked.

"Charles, I am surrounded by toadies. Men like that Everett character I sent over to your store. Men who are only interested in sales figures and corporate gamesmanship. I am surrounded by MBAs and accountants and," he shuddered slightly, "_lawyers_. I need someone with tactical sense. With strategic vision. Business is war!" He thumped a finger on the arm of his chair to emphasize each of the last three words.

"Sir, I don't think..." Chuck started to say.

But Moses wasn't listening. "I came to realize, when I started this business, that it was my work as a spy that made me such an effective businessman. Thinking on your feet, grace under pressure, reading your opponent's strengths and weaknesses, processing the overwhelming flow of data, ruthlessness... _That's_ what makes a truly great businessman."

Chuck glanced up at Amelia to see if her employer's rant had fazed her at all. She was looking at the wall, her expression neutral, until she noticed Chuck looking at her. She gave him a slight nod and one corner of her mouth turned up ever-so-slightly.

Moses was continuing his monologue. "As I said, al Fayed made me realize my one great weakness, and when my people told me that it was you - one of my own Nerd Herders - on that tape, everything fell into place. I knew I had found the perfect candidate. The perfect apprentice."

"Sir," Chuck said, "I really don't think I'm your man."

Moses chuckled lightly and smiled broadly at him. "Yes, yes, Charles. I know this is overwhelming. To have the world handed to you on a silver platter. But you must realize that I do not make this decision lightly. I have been looking for a worthy successor ever since al Fayed was released. I didn't think I would ever find someone with your combined and... unique... skill set. Imagine: a Nerd Herd spy!"

"Well, I'm not really a spy," Chuck said carefully.

In the hallway outside, Casey tensed. The nerd was about to give away the store. He glanced over at a frowning Sarah. "We need to get him out of there, before he says something really stupid," Casey said.

Sarah shook her head. "Have a little faith, Casey. Chuck's not going to say anything to compromise the Intersect."

"This is Bartowski we're talking about," Casey snarled.

"Just wait a minute," Sarah admonished him.

"We don't have a minute," Casey warned her. "Security is going to be here any second."

"I thought we had stopped with these ridiculous denials," Moses said. He gestured vaguely in the direction of the plasma screens. "You are most certainly a spy."

"I'm an analyst, actually," Chuck said, looking down. "I'm just an analyst. I'm not trained to be a spy."

To his surprise, Moses laughed. Chuck looked up at him to see Moses smiling broadly. "But don't you see, that's perfect!" Moses said, slapping his knees. "I was an analyst, too, before I became a spy. Chuck, my boy, don't you see it? _You're me_!"

Chuck's jaw dropped (again) and he blinked a couple of times at Moses. "I'm... you?"

Moses stood and began to pace the room again, much more animated this time. "Why, I couldn't have asked for a better fit. You clearly are a spy, Charles, whether the CIA acknowledges that or not. Look at your actions. Are those the actions of an analyst?" He waived his hand broadly in a dismissive gesture. "Of course not! A little bit of training and you'd be one of the best."

There was a noise at the end of the hallway and Casey turned to see two security guards in muted green and yellow uniforms striding down the hall toward them. "Time's up, Walker," he said, reaching for his gun.

Sarah touched his arm with one hand while putting away the scanner with the other. "Wait, Casey. We can't exactly shoot our way out of here."

"Watch me," Casey said, but he didn't pull his gun. Instead he plastered on a broad smile and turned to the guards.

"What are you doing here?" the older of the two guards asked, his hand on his holster.

"This isn't the training room?" Sarah asked.

Chuck shook his head. "Mr. Finkelstein... Moses... Don't you think we should be concentrating on Abdul al Fayed? You know, the guy who's blowing up your stores?"

Moses waived his hand. "I have Mossad taking care of that. They are the best. And Ari Schwartz is one of _their_ best. He will take care of it."

"Ari is in the _hospital_," Chuck said, leaning forward in his chair.

Moses stopped pacing and looked at Chuck. "Of course, of course. You are right. We need to take care of this nuisance. We..."

The door to the office opened and the two burly security guards came in, pushing Sarah and Casey in front of them. "Mr. Finkelstein. We found these two snooping around outside your office."

Chuck came to this feet, while Amelia reached inside her jacket and produced an enormous Desert Eagle handgun that had Chuck wondering just how she had hidden it there.

Moses, however, was nonplussed and smiled at Sarah and Casey. "It's all right," he said. "They may stay. It saves me from having to send for them."

Sarah looked from Chuck, to Amelia, to Moses and back to Chuck. "Chuck, are you all right?" she asked.

Chuck nodded, looking nervously at Amelia. Moses turned and looked at his assistant/bodyguard as well, and then motioned for her to lower her weapon. "Amelia, please. These are guests. I am sure that they mean us no harm."

He nodded to the security guards. "Wait outside." Once the guards were gone, he turned back to Chuck. "Please, Charles, aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?"

"No need," Sarah said. "We were just leaving. Come on, Chuck."

"Wait, wait," Moses said. "You're the woman from the store. The one Chuck here rescued." He turned to Chuck. "I must say, Charles, you have excellent taste in partners. Beauty," he nodded at Sarah, "and the beast," a nod to Casey, "as it were. It reminds me of my own team from so many years ago." He sighed almost wistfully.

He took a step forward and held out his hand. "I am Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More." Sarah reluctantly took his hand. "This is Amelia Banks, my assistant. And, as you can see, a rather formidable bodyguard."

"A... pleasure," Amelia said in a tone that indicated she was merely being polite. She was eyeing Sarah and Casey cautiously. She turned to Moses. "Sir, I would feel more comfortable if they were not armed."

Moses was still holding Sarah's hand and she was beginning to grow rather uncomfortable. "Nonsense," he said. "We're all friends here. Fighting for truth, justice and the American way, eh?" He finally released Sarah's hand and she unconsciously rubbed it on her short Nerd Herder skirt. "Besides, any friend of Chuck's is a friend of ours, isn't that right?"

He turned to Casey and offered his hand to him as well. "I want to thank you for rescuing Ari Schwartz from the fire. That took some real intestinal fortitude. Of course, you did have Charles here to lead the way."

Casey barely suppressed a growl, but he shook Moses' hand firmly.

"John Casey, isn't it? Top salesman at the Burbank store. You certainly have a knack for moving the Beastmasters. I don't think there is another store that has sold as many as you have single-handedly. Of course, I assume that your working for me is only a cover."

Casey turned and glared at Chuck.

"Oh, don't blame Charles. He didn't tell me who you were. You missed the video presentation earlier. The security cameras in the North Hollywood store caught you and Charles rescuing Ari and this lovely young lady." He turned a little to look at Sarah. "I still don't know your name."

Sarah gave a mental shrug. If he knew who Chuck and Casey were, there was no point in trying to lie. "Sarah Walker," she said.

"Please, have a seat," Moses said, motioning to the chairs. "Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? Amelia makes a wonderful cappuccino."

"As I said," Sarah replied. "We were just leaving."

Moses frowned and his voice grew colder. "No. Really. I am afraid I must insist. Charles and I were not through with our conversation."

Casey gave a little grunt and took a step toward Moses. There was a click as Amelia cocked the Desert Eagle and pointed it at Casey's head.

"Wait!" Chuck shouted. "Moses, please. Casey, Sarah, wait."

Everyone in the room turned to Chuck except Amelia, who kept the gun pointed at Casey's head.

"Listen. Like Moses... Mr. Finkelstein... said: we're all on the same team here.... more or less. We want to stop the bombings of the Buy Mores. So does he. We need to work together." He turned to Amelia. "And that doesn't include pointing cannons at each other."

Amelia glanced over at Moses and he gave a slight nod. She slowly lowered her weapon. Moses clapped his hands, startling everyone in the room. "You see!" he shouted. "Perfect! Note how well he defused that situation. I tell you Charles, you're a natural."

"Natural born loser," Casey muttered.

"I want to speak to your superior," Moses said to Sarah and Casey. "You can arrange that for me, of course." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a gold business card holder and took out two cards. "Here. This has my private number. You can have him call me." He turned to Chuck. "I suppose it is rather bad form to take you away from your team in the middle of an investigation. Clearly, they are unable to function effectively without you."

Chuck heard Casey draw in a breath and saw him tense up. "Indeed, I can't imagine leaving my team in the middle of an investigation," Chuck said quickly.

"Yes, yes," Moses said. "I'll speak to you about your new position later, my boy. I know you're overwhelmed with my generosity. Amelia, can you show them out?"

Amelia took a step forward and motioned toward the door. Sarah and Casey looked at Moses, then turned and started toward the door. As Chuck turned to go, Moses clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I'm looking forward to working with you, Charles. The perfect sponge to soak up my vast wisdom."

Chuck started to protest, but stopped and held out his hand. "I'll certainly think about your offer, sir."

"Nothing to think about," Moses said, using the hand on his shoulder to guide him toward the door. "I've made my decision. And I _always_ get what I want. I'll be in touch." He guided Chuck out the door, gave his shoulder a fatherly pat, and then turned back toward his office.

Sarah and Casey paused to let Chuck catch up.

"Listen guys," Chuck said. "I..."

"Later, moron," Casey hissed. "I can't wait to explain _this_ one to Beckman."

Amelia led them to the executive floor receptionist. The two security guards were hovering by the desk. "Please escort these two out of the building," Amelia said, indicating Sarah and Casey. She turned to Chuck. "Will you be needing Davis and the limo, or will you be riding with... these two."

"I, ah, think I can catch a ride with them," Chuck said.

Amelia offered her hand. "A pleasure, Mr. Bartowski. I am sure we will be seeing much more of each other. Perhaps next time we can compare notes on _Ex Machina_."

Chuck took her hand lightly by the fingers so as not to hurt his bandaged hands, glancing over at Sarah as he did. Her expression was unreadable. Amelia, noting his glance, turned to Sarah. "Nice outfit, by the way." Then she turned and strode back down the hall toward Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s office.

Casey snorted. "Gotta love a woman who packs a Desert Eagle."

"He _what_?!" Beckman exploded from the video screen in the Castle.

"He offered me a job," Chuck said. "Well, I guess technically it's a promotion, since I already work for him. I mean, we didn't talk salary or title or anything. I don't know that 'heir apparent' is exactly a job title. You know, I think..."

"General, our covers have been compromised," Sarah cut in, stopping Chuck's ramble. "Finkelstein identified Casey and me as agents from the security video for the North Hollywood Buy More."

"And now he wants Chuck to run his corporation," Beckman said. "Why?"

"I think that's a little harsh," Chuck said. "I mean, I am a pretty good worker and..."

"Finkelstein's clearly unbalanced," Casey said, cutting off Chuck yet again. "Why else would he choose numbskull here as anything except janitor."

"That was rather hurtful, Casey. After all, I could end up as your boss."

"When hell freezes over."

"Don't worry. I wouldn't hold all those hurtful things against you when..."

"Ahem!" Beckman said loudly and Chuck stopped and looked up at the screen. "There is no way that we're going to allow the _Intersect_ to be used to run an _electronics chain_."

"Well, technically, he did say that his business empire was more than just the Buy More. He said that was just the tip of the iceberg."

"Mr. Bartowski, I'm sending an extraction team. The mission has been compromised. I am putting you in lockdown here in Washington."


	15. Lockdown

Sorry for the delay in updates, folks. Too many irons in the fire.

Thanks to **Poa** and **MySoapBox** for advice on this chapter. Thanks to them, I have a little better handle on where the story is going now. (Yeah, yeah, I should have that all mapped out in advance and not make it up as I go along).

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 15

Lockdown

_"Mr. Bartowski, I'm sending an extraction team. The mission has been compromised. I am putting you in lockdown here in Washington."_

The words echoed in Sarah's mind as she rode the elevator down to the sublevel living quarters where Chuck Bartowski was currently housed. The doors to the elevator opened and Sarah stepped out. The guard at the desk facing the elevator looked up. "Good morning, Agent Walker." Sarah nodded to the guard and keyed in her personal code. The computer scanned her retina and confirmed her identity. The guard double checked the findings, and then hit a button to open the door.

Sarah stepped through into the high security 'bunker.' Though it was denominated a bunker, it was actually a high security underground holding facility. Sarah passed through two more checkpoints before she arrived at a familiar door with a Dilbert cartoon taped to the door. She smiled and knocked on the door. When she heard a muffled, 'come in,' she keyed the entry code into the lock and the door slid open.

Chuck was seated on a stool at a cluttered work table, various electronic components spread on the table before him. He turned to look at who it was and jumped to his feet when he saw that it was Sarah.

He broke into a huge smile, covered the distance between his stool and the doorway in three huge strides and threw his arms around Sarah. She returned the fierce hug as he whispered in her ear, "God, I've missed you."

Sarah pulled back just enough to plant a passionate kiss on his lips. She was delighted when he responded with equal passion. Finally, reluctantly, she pulled away. "So," he said, smiling, "who's the president?" It was their standard joke. Each time she visited, he would ask her the same question.

"Thomas Whitmore," she answered, her standard reply ever since they watched _Independence Day_ during one of her visits to his 'bunker.'

He pulled back and held her at arm's length and smiled at her. "You're as beautiful as ever, Sarah."

Sarah looked at him and lowered her eyes. He was pale and thin and he had cut his hair short. While his smile for her was genuine, it barely reached his eyes. He was wasting away here, separated from family and friends and the life he knew.

The bunker was for his own good, she tried to tell herself. It was the best way to keep him safe. Besides, orders were orders. It had nothing to do with keeping him away from the Lous, the Jills, the Amelias. It was for his own good. And the fact that she was his one connection to the outside world…

"'Bout time," Casey grunted.

Sarah blinked, jolted back to reality. A brief horror flickered across her eyes. How could she even think such a thing? That wasn't her. She didn't want Chuck in a bunker. It was simply an idle daydream: the thought of his lips pressing against hers, of being free to express her feelings once he was no longer her asset…

She glanced over at Chuck and saw his worried expression. She felt the guilt welling up inside for even contemplating Chuck stuck in a bunker. She turned back to the screen. "General, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Oh?" Beckman responded. She was not a woman who liked to have her orders questioned.

"General, given Finkelstein's interest in Chuck, and his connections, it could cause... complications... if he were to simply disappear. Moses Finkelstein (etc.) doesn't strike me as the kind of man who would simply give up on Chuck. Wouldn't it put the whole Intersect project at risk of exposure if the Founder and CEO of Buy More started calling in markers to try and find him?"

Beckman frowned. "Unfortunately, you're probably correct. Moses has never been a man who gives up easily."

Chuck raised an eyebrow at Beckman's calling Moses Finkelstein (etc.) 'Moses'. Did Beckman and Finkelstein know each other?

"No extraction, for now," Beckman said. Casey responded with a dissatisfied grunt; but, unlike Sarah, he wasn't one to question orders. Beckman ignored Casey and continued. "However, Mr. Bartowski, under no circumstances are you to agree to or accept any type of position in Moses' organization."

"Well, technically, I already have a position in..." Casey jabbed Chuck with an elbow. Hard. Chuck winced and then continued while he pressed an arm to his side. "Right. No promotion at the Buy More. Nerd Herd it is."

"I want this 'bomber' business wrapped up as soon as possible," Beckman said. "Then we'll deal with Moses Finkelstein."

"Yes, General," Sarah and Casey said in unison while Chuck said, "Right. Yes, ma'am. Understood." His response earned him a sidelong glance from the two agents.

Beckman cut the connection.

"So what now?" Casey asked.

"The problem is that we don't have any leads in the Bomber case," Sarah said. "We need to go talk to Ari. He has a team analyzing the security footage. Are any of the stores even open? How are we going to track the Bomber if he doesn't have any targets?"

"Or if he moves to targets outside Southern California," Chuck added. "There are Buy More stores all over the country. He could go anywhere next."

"I checked," Casey said. "All the California stores are closed except for the Beverly Hills Branch. They've hired their own security and installed explosive detection equipment."

"Let's go talk to Ari," Chuck said. "Is he still at the hospital?"

Sarah nodded.

"Casey, go get our gear," Sarah said. "I want to have a look at Chuck's hands."

"Hmph. Hands," Casey said and then hurried out before Sarah could reach for one of her knives.

Sarah rolled her eyes and said, "Come on," as she led Chuck to the room they used as the Castle's infirmary. "Sit," Sarah ordered, pointing to a chair before turning to pull the supplies she needed out of one of the cupboards. She methodically arranged the supplies on a tray and then carried the tray over to the small table next to Chuck and sat in the chair facing him.

Chuck held his hands up. "Face first," Sarah said. She lightly touched Chuck's cheek. "Does that hurt?" she asked.

"Not too bad. I think it's getting better," Chuck replied.

Sarah gently turned his head from side to side, looking over his burns. "Let me put a little more aloe on it," she said. "I'm afraid you're going to start peeling." She gently put a little of the green goop on her fingers and gently touched it to Chuck's face.

"So, what did you think of Finkelstein's offer?" she asked, a little too casually.

Chuck blinked and cocked his head a little to the side, leading Sarah to grab his chin and push it back straight. "Well, um, flattered?" he said.

"It'd be a good opportunity for you," Sarah said. "You'd be getting out of the Buy More. Ellie would be ecstatic if she found out."

Chuck frowned. "You heard Beckman. There's no way she's going to let me work for Moses… well… with Moses… Oh, you know what I mean."

Sarah smiled a little. "But you won't always be the Intersect," she said. "You're the one who's always telling me you're going to get that thing out of your head and live a normal life. There. All done. Now let's take a look at your hands."

Chuck held out his hands and Sarah carefully unwrapped the gauze. Chuck winced a little as she did. His right hand was still sore from when Moses Finkelstein (etc.) had shaken it earlier.

"One of the blisters popped," Sarah said, looking over Chuck's right hand. "Did you grab something?"

"Moses shook my hand when I got to his office," Chuck said. "He didn't squeeze hard, but it still hurt."

"Well, that's why," Sarah said. "Chuck, you have to take care of yourself." Chuck noted, happily, that her tone was more of a girlfriend chiding her boyfriend than of a handler scolding her agent. "So, do you think you might want to be Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s right hand man someday?" she asked.

Chuck chewed the inside of his lip while he thought. "It's not exactly what I envisioned doing with my life. I mean, I always thought I would be working for Microsoft or Apple Arts or Roark Industries, not running a business empire… unless it was my own software company."

"It would probably pay well," Sarah said, grabbing a jar of salve to spread on Chuck's hands. "Lots of responsibility, lots of glamour. Being a high level executive like that can be some pretty heady stuff."

Chuck frowned again. "Sarah, why are you asking? Do you want me to take the job?"

"Just making conversation," Sarah said. "I want you to be happy, Chuck. And if you think that taking the position with Moses Finkelstein (etc.) will make you happy, then I'm all for it." She looked down and Chuck could read Sarah well enough by now to know there was something she wasn't saying.

"Don't you think he's a little, you know, crazy?" Chuck asked.

Sarah grabbed a towel and wiped the excess salve from her hands and then picked up a roll of gauze. "A lot of important, powerful men come off as a little crazy," Sarah said. "Sometimes they are. Sometimes they're just… driven." She started to wrap the gauze around Chuck's right hand.

"It's just…" Sarah started, then stopped and licked her lips. She started again; "I know how unhappy you are at the Buy More. And, no offense Chuck, but you're wasted at the Buy More. You could do so much more. I've seen it. When Moses made the offer… Well, it was nice to see someone else recognize your potential."

"Thank you, Sarah," Chuck replied. "I have to admit; it's tempting. I mean, having everything handed to me on a silver platter…"

"You won't be the Intersect forever," Sarah said.

Chuck didn't reply and there was a long silence as Sarah finished his right hand and began to wrap the gauze around his left.

"You and Amelia Banks seemed to hit it off," she said finally, as she picked up the scissors to cut the excess gauze.

Chuck tried hard not to smile. Was that what was bothering her? Could Sarah actually be jealous? No. Not possible. Smart, sexy, secret agents didn't get jealous.

"Her boyfriend introduced her to _Ex Machina_, a graphic novel I've read," he said carefully, gauging her reaction.

"_Ex_-boyfriend," Sarah corrected him automatically, and then paused and bit her lower lip.

"Oh, did she say ex-boyfriend?" Chuck said, dismissively. "Anyway, who could have guessed that a hard-nosed ex-Special Forces sergeant would be a closet nerd? I mean, that's kind of…" He stopped. 'Stupid, Bartowski. Real stupid. Letting your mouth run ahead of your brain. Again! But he couldn't help adding the last word, "…cool." He stopped and forced himself not to whack himself in the forehead.

There was a long silence and Chuck realized he was holding his breath. Finally Sarah spoke. "Yeah. Amelia is quite something," she said.

'Open mouth, insert foot, Bartowski,' Chuck thought. 'How do I get out of this one?' There was one constant with Chuck. When he panicked, his mouth started running away from him. "Maybe you'd like it," he said. "I could loan it to you and you could see what you think. I mean, I know you don't read graphic novels. Or, at least, I've never seen you read graphic novels. But even Devon has read a few of mine and this one, it's really great," he said, his speech ramping up to 'Chuck speed.' "There's this guy, Mitchell Hundred, and he's known as the Great Machine. Well, that's his superhero name. He's this civil engineer, see, and there's this explosion of an alien device and he's impregnated… that sounds weird… I mean, not impregnated, impregnated, but he has these parts of the alien device embedded in his body that allow him to talk to and sometimes control mechanical devices and then he's elected as Mayor of New York…"

Seeing Sarah's knowing smile, Chuck paused. His enthusiasm drained away and he finished lamely, "Anyway, I can loan them to you… If you want."

Sarah started putting up her medical supplies. "Thanks, Chuck. I just might… take you up on that. Later. But we had better be going. It's not a good idea to keep Casey waiting."

"No, I suppose not," Chuck said as he stood.

"But we do need to talk more about Moses Finkelstein (etc.)," she said.

Chuck sighed. "Yeah. I suppose we do," he said.

********************************

Ari was in a room in the 'special section' of County General. It still made Chuck nervous to walk past the 'Biohazard' signs. They rounded the corner to find Doctor Jennings standing by a nurses' station, looking over a chart. "So, doctors just stand around posing like that to look important, don't they?" Chuck teased.

Jennings turned and smiled. "Agent Carmichael. Nothing's wrong is it? The hands bothering you?"

"Not too much," Chuck replied. "You did an excellent job, Doctor."

"It was my honor, Agent Carmichael. Too bad I can't tell anyone I was attending physician to the Hero of North Hollywood."

"The what?" Sarah asked.

"The Hero of North Hollywood. That's what they're calling Agent Carmichael, after that video surfaced. I think it made the national news."

"Peachy," Casey growled, with a nasty look at Chuck.

"We're here to see Agent Cohen," Sarah said, remembering to use Ari's current alias.

"He's just down the hall, third room on the left. His wife is here with him."

"His wife," Sarah gasped. "She's here?"

"She got in about an hour, hour and a half ago," Doctor Jennings said.

Without another word, Sarah hurried down the hall. Startled, Chuck stood there for a moment and then ran after her.

"Good to see you, Agent Carmichael!" Doctor Jennings called after him.

"Great. Just great. Hero of North Hollywood my ass," Casey muttered as he trudged down the hall after the rest of Team Bartowski.

Sarah stopped in the doorway of Ari's hospital room. "Rachel."

An older woman, still beautiful but with a few strands of grey now streaking her blonde hair, turned at the sound of her name. Her blue eyes went wide and sparkled with delight. "Rebecca! David told me you were here." Rachel hurried across the room to envelop Sarah in a hug. "Oh, it's so good to see you. It's been so long."

Chuck came skidding to a stop in the doorway in time to see Sarah wrapped in the arms of an older woman, but one who looked enough like Sarah to be her mother. His eyes went wide and a variety of wild thought went spinning through his head.

Rachel pulled away but held Sarah at arm's length. "Rebecca Meyerson. The least you could have done was drop me a note now and again to let me know you were all right."

"It's Sarah. Sarah Walker," Sarah replied. "And you of all people should know that wasn't possible."

Rachel sighed and pulled Sarah into another hug. "Of course, dear, of course. But I am a Jewish mother, after all. I have a certain reputation to uphold."

Sarah laughed as she pulled away. "You're looking well, Rachel."

"Please, Leah," Rachel said. "Wife of David Cohen, security consultant." She looked over at the bed where Ari was giving them both a knowing grin. "Has he been giving you much trouble?"

"He's a shameless flirt, but other than that, he's harmless."

"Honey, when you reach his age, flirt is all you can do," Rachel said with a smirk.

"I'm right here, woman," Ari protested from the bed. "And you have never had any complaints."

"Well, none that you have ever heard, _David_," Rachel said.

"Ahem," Chuck said from the doorway.

Sarah and Rachel turned and Chuck was once again struck by the similarity between the two women. He found himself thinking, 'Ari Schwartz is a lucky man.'

"I'm sorry, Leah," Sarah said. "This is Charles Carmichael. My partner."

"A pleasure," Chuck said, holding out a hand out of habit.

Rachel glanced down at his hands. "You are the one," she said, ignoring Chuck's hand and hurrying forward to give Chuck a hug. "You are the one who saved my David."

Chuck blushed. "Actually, that was Agent Casey here," Chuck said, indicating the figure that appeared behind him in the doorway.

"Well thank you. Both of you," Rachel said, eyeing Casey and apparently deciding against hugging him as well.

"Actually, it was Ar... um... David who is the real hero," Chuck said. "He went into the store to warn the employees and then he saved Sarah's... Agent Walker's life when the bomb exploded."

Rachel turned and looked at Ari. "He is an old man who was foolish enough to listen to his wife and come here in the first place."

Chuck and Sarah both noticed Rachel's voice break just a little when she said this. Sarah quickly changed the subject. "What do the doctors say? When can you get out?"

Ari smiled. "If it was up to me, I would be out today so I could send this foolish old woman home. But alas, they tell me they want me to stay until tomorrow. I think it's because some of the nurses can't bear to let me go."

"Fey!" Rachel said, but there was laughter in her eyes.

"I want to thank you as well, Agent Casey, Agent Carmichael," Ari said, suddenly serious. "I owe you a debt that will not be easy to repay."

"It's already repaid," Chuck said quickly, earning a grunt from Casey. "We're grateful to you for saving Sarah's life. _That_ is a debt we can never repay."

"Fey!" Rachel said again. "He knows that if he let anything happen to our dear... Sarah... he would have to answer to me. And to our son, Yitzhak."

Ari turned to Sarah. "So why have you come? As much as I would like to think so, I do not think it was to bask in the glow of my personality. I understand you saw Moses Finkelstein this morning."

"Word travels fast," Casey said, stepping into the room and closing the door.

"Moses has already been in contact with Mossad headquarters to get all the information he can on Agent Carmichael, here," Ari said. "Or should I say, Charles Irving Bartowski."


	16. Not by the Hair of my Chinny Chinchilla

_Thanks again to my editor/proofreader __**Poa**__ and to my 'story consultant' __**MySoapBox**__ for their help on this chapter. Ladies, I am in your debt. Your suggestions made the chapter much stronger, as usual._

_Sorry for the delay since the last chapter. Hopefully it was worth the wait (but I doubt it)._

_So without further ado, we bring you..._

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 16

Not By the Hair of My Chinny Chinchilla

_"Moses has already been in contact with Mossad headquarters to get all the information he can on Agent Carmichael, here," Ari said. "Or should I say, Charles Irving Bartowski."_

"What?" Casey asked.

"Moses can be… relentless when there is something he wants," Rachel offered.

"You know Moses Finkelstein?" Sarah asked.

"I was on his team," Rachel said. "I was one of those who helped track down Abdul al Fayed and Red Jihad. Moses was my superior."

"And when you said it was your fault that Ari, um, David was here…" Chuck said.

"I know how dangerous al Fayed can be. I know of what he is capable. When I heard that al Fayed was here, targeting Moses, I convinced Ari to take the mission…"

Ari sat up quickly in his hospital bed, which caused him to wince as it stretched the bandaged on his back. He exhaled quickly. Still, he hissed a warning to his wife, "Rachel!"

"It is all right, Ari," Rachel said. "I know Sarah can be trusted, and she needs to know everything. And if she trusts her team, then I trust them, too."

"You know what my superiors would say," Ari cautioned her.

"Yes, yes. They were once my superiors as well. Or men just like them. The faces change, but the bureaucratic mindset is a constant." She turned back to Sarah. "You must be careful with Moses. He is a dangerous, ruthless man. And there is no love lost between him and Ari."

"Why's that?" Casey asked.

"When I was on his team, Moses was... interested in me. Not professionally. I spurned him, and chose Ari instead. Moses was... not happy with the decision."

"Then why did you send Ari here to save Moses' bacon?" Chuck asked. When everyone turned toward him, he blushed a little. "Sorry. Poor choice of words."

Rachel smiled and ignored the faux pas. "I convinced Ari to come because I, of all people, know what a complete bastard al Fayed is. He cares about nothing and no one but himself. This 'jihad' of his was not about freeing Palestine, but about his own personal aggrandizement, his own power."

Casey furrowed his brow. Something Rachel had said had struck a chord. "Why you of all people?" he asked.

Rachel's voice was hard and flat. "My undercover assignment was to get close to al Fayed... by any means necessary. It is not something of which I am proud, but I did what my superior, what my country, required of me."

"Wait a minute," Chuck asked, aghast. "Moses was in love with you, but he still ordered you to... well, you know... with a terrorist?"

Rachel nodded. "Moses lets nothing get in the way of the mission. Besides, al Fayed was the most dangerous enemy Israel had, and what I did was... and is... acceptable and normal spycraft."

Sarah's eyes darted over to Chuck. As she expected, he turned ahd looked at her. The look in his eyes caused her to shrink a little from his gaze. By now, she thought knew Chuck's every look, every glance. But she wasn't sure. What that pain in his eyes, or accusation? It pained her to have Chuck think of her like that. But it would pain him even more if he knew the whole truth. She quickly changed the subject. "Rachel, if you know al Fayed so well, then perhaps you can help us. We have to stop him."

"I will do what I can, of course," Rachel said.

"No!" came a commanding voice from the bed. Four sets of eyes turned and looked at Ari. "No. I forbid it."

"Forbid it?" Rachel asked.

"Rachel, you gave up that life. You promised me. When our son Yitzhak was born, you promised me that you were out."

Rachel laughed. "Don't worry, old man. I'm not planning on trying to seduce al Fayed. I do not exactly turn heads the way I used to." She smiled, as if fishing for one of Ari's usual comments about her still being beautiful.

Ari, however, did not take the bait. "That is not what I am talking about, woman, and you know it," Ari said. "You have two sons now. You have no business being out in the field. Your sons need a mother, not an operative."

Sarah winced a little at Ari's comment and glanced over at Chuck. There was a tiny part of her that daydreamed about being a wife and mother, while still being a field agent. Fortunately, she noted, Chuck was focused on Ari and Rachel and didn't see her reaction.

"I am not planning on hunting down al Fayed myself, husband," Rachel said. "I merely meant that I could give Sarah and her team some insight as to how al Fayed thinks. Perhaps, with my help, they can determine his next move."

"That would be very helpful, Rachel," Sarah said. She turned to Ari. "Don't worry. I'll keep her out of trouble."

"Wonderful. You keeping someone out of trouble," Ari said to Sarah. "If I recall, you were generally the one causing trouble."

Sarah shrugged. "That was Rebecca. This is Sarah. I'm not some wet being the ears, fresh from the Academy agent any more."

Casey snorted, earning him a dirty look from Sarah. Ari raised his eyebrows and gave Sarah a dubious look.

Sarah reached in her pocket and pulled out her card. "Stop by the Orange Orange tomorrow," Sarah said, handing the card to Rachel, "and we can go over the intel that we have."

"Good," Rachel said. "Nine o'clock?"

Sarah nodded. "That will be fine."

Rachel gave Sarah a hug. "It is so good to see you again. It has been too long."

"Yes, it has," Sarah said. "Take good care of… David." She gave Ari a look.

"Go," Ari said. "I have barely had time to have Rachel yell at me for being so careless." Sarah laughed and Ari winked at her. Chuck and Casey said their goodbyes and left Ari's room.

Once they were out of the room, Chuck turned to Sarah and Casey. "I thought the idea was to find out what else Ari knew about al Fayed. We didn't ask him anything."

Casey thumped him in the back of the head. "Think about it, moron. His wife just got there. How much information do you think we could get out of him at this point?"

"You know," Chuck complained, "one of these days you're going to knock something loose up there."

"You have to have something up there before it can be knocked loose," Casey replied.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "As long as we're here, Chuck, why don't we get Doctor Jennings to look at your hands."

Chuck sighed. "Okay."

Doctor Jennings was still at the nurses' station. "Agent Cohen seems to be doing well," Chuck said, remembering to use Ari's cover name.

"Yes," Jennings said. "I want to keep him tonight to watch for any infection, but he should be able to go home tomorrow, as long as he's restricted to light duty."

"Doctor, could you look at Agent Carmichael's hands?" Sarah asked. "I've been changing the bandages but I'd appreciate your opinion on how they're doing."

"Of course," Jennings said. "Come on in here." He indicated one of the examination rooms.

"You do good work, Agent Walker," Jennings said as he unwrapped the gauze. "You could teach some of my residents something about the proper way to wrap a bandage."

Chuck frowned. This was too reminiscent of Jennings trying to turn on the charm when he first met Sarah. He cleared his throat. "So how am I doing, Doc?"

"Fine, fine," Jennings said, turning back to Chuck's hands. "They're healing nicely. You still need to be careful, however." He re-wrapped Chuck's hands in new gauze and Chuck noted he used a little less this time. He took that as a good sign.

"Thank you, doctor," Sarah said when Jennings finished.

"Oh, it was my pleasure," Jennings said, taking her hand.

"We really should be going," Chuck said, 'accidently' bumping Jennings to force him to release Sarah's hand.

Casey smiled. The kid was finally learning some spy moves, even if he was just using them to keep Walker away from predatory doctors.

As they walked toward the car, Chuck looked down at his watch. "I need to stop by the Buy More and check on the chinchillas," he said. "If the store wasn't opened today, then I doubt Jeff and Lester were able to get in to give them food and water."

"You mean, were sober enough to do it," Casey replied.

"Yeah, that too," Chuck nodded.

"Drop us at my car, Casey, and I'll take Chuck over to the Buy More," Sarah said.

Casey drove them to Chuck's apartment complex, where Sarah had parked her car. She had chosen an unobtrusive location so Ellie or Devon wouldn't spot it.

Casey dropped them off. "I'm going to go check out the Beverly Hills branch, since it's the only one open," he said.

"Call us if you find anything," Sarah replied.

After he drove off, Sarah turned to Chuck and asked, "Do you need anything from your room as long as we're here?"

Chuck thought for a moment and then shook his head. "Not that I can think of. I think I've got what I need over at your place, and Ellie and Devon are probably home by now. It would still be kind of awkward trying to explain this," he held up his bandaged hands.

"Okay," Sarah said. "Buy More and then my place. Oh, and we probably should pick up some dinner."

Chuck smiled. "Sound good."

They hopped in Sarah's Porsche. Chuck fumbled with the seatbelt.

"Here, let me," Sarah said, reaching across him to grab the seat belt. He took in a breath as her body brushed against his. She leaned back, pulling the seatbelt, and clicked it in place. Then she smiled at him. "There."

Chuck sighed and looked down at his hands. "I'll be glad when I'm healed and I don't feel like such an invalid, having you do everything for me."

Sarah gave him one of her enigmatic smiles - the kind that turned his insides to mush. "I don't mind," she said. "After all, it's my job to take care of you."

"Protect me, not be my nursemaid," he grumbled.

"Is it so bad, having me as a nursemaid?" she asked.

Chuck blushed and looked over at her, but Sarah had started the car and was scanning the traffic, preparing to pull out.

"Not… not at all," Chuck said. "I just figure, you know, that you have better things to do than babysit a crippled nerd."

Sarah glanced quickly at him before turning back to watch the road. "Like I said before, it's the least I can do."

Chuck settled back into the seat and watched the scenery roll by, without really seeing it. Uncharacteristically, Sarah was taking it slow and easy, rarely getting the Porsche above second gear. His mind started to wander and he thought about what Rachel had said at the hospital, about pretend to be Abdul al Fayed's lover as part of Moses' operation to take him down the first time.

"Sarah," he began.

"Yes, Chuck?" she asked.

"I was wondering…" he started, then paused. "Never mind."

"What?" she asked.

"It's nothing," he replied.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No," Chuck replied slowly. "No, I… It's just that I was thinking about what Rachel said. About Moses… using her to get close to al Fayed."

"Mmm hmm," Sarah said as the corners of her mouth started to droop. This was _not_ the conversation she really wanted to be having with Chuck.

"I mean," Chuck continued. "She said that Moses was in love with her, and yet… I mean, how could he? It's just…" He paused, at a loss to even verbalize his conflicting thoughts.

Sarah kept her gaze firmly riveted on the road ahead. "Sometimes," she said slowly, "in this business, we have to put aside personal feelings for the greater good. Sometimes we have to do… things… things that are… distasteful… in order to fulfill the mission."

"But you haven't… You wouldn't…" His voice trailed off and he stared out the window.

Sarah glanced over at him, sighed, and then turned her attention back to the traffic.

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the Buy More. Afraid to even look at her, Chuck didn't see Sarah's eyes glistening with the tears that she fought desperately not to shed.

The Buy More parking lot was nearly empty. Evidently, shoppers were not only avoiding the Buy More, they were also avoiding the nearby stores, just in case.

"Well, at least Morgan is getting his vacation," Chuck said, trying to lighten the mood.

Sarah simply nodded and gave him a wan smile.

They walked up to the store. Chuck winced a little as he tried to reach into his pocket for his keys. "Here, let me," Sarah said. Chuck blushed as Sarah reached a hand into his pants pocket and fished for the keys. After a moment, she pulled out the familiar brain keychain.

Chuck gave her a nervous smile. "Um, thanks," he said.

"Which key is it?" Sarah asked, trying to act as if fishing in a guy's pants pocket was perfectly normal.

"That… no, the other… yeah, that one," Chuck said. "Wait, I have to put in the code." He punched the manager's code into the keypad by the door, and then Sarah unlocked it.

Chuck started to go in, but Sarah put a hand on his shoulder. "Wait," she said, reaching into her waistband to pull out her gun.

"Did you hear something?" Chuck asked.

"No, but with al Fayed and his men running around, we can't be too careful."

Chuck nodded and held the door for Sarah. He waited for a moment, just watching her. Once again, he marveled at her feline grace as she moved stealthily into the store. Chuck had to shake his head to snap himself out of his reverie, so mesmerized was he watching Sarah at work.

He stepped into the store and cringedas the door slammed shut with a bang. Sarah turned and glared at him. Chuck shrugged his shoulders and mouthed, 'Sorry.' Sarah shook her head and continued into the store. Chuck hurried to catch up. He looked around nervously. The store, his home away from home, now seemed silent and creepy. Instead of Emmett's ubiquitous animal videos, the video wall was black and dead. The standees of smiling Buy More green shirts somehow seemed silent and brooding. The store, usually full of life - human and electronic, seemed dead and cold.

A monitor flickered off to the side and Chuck's breath caught for a moment. 'Get it together, Chuck,' he told himself.

Sarah ducked into the back. She emerged a moment later and nodded at him, sticking her gun back in her pants. "All clear," she announced.

Chuck breathed a sigh of relief. "Good," he said. "Thanks."

Sarah smiled at him. "Just doing my job," she replied. Chuck sighed.

Chuck had instructed Jeff and Lester to leave the chinchillas' cage in 'The Cage,' a chain-link enclosed workspace for the Nerd Herd (sometimes called 'Thunderdome' after Morgan's 'assistant manager competition'). Clearly, Jeff and Lester had not been by to clean the chinchillas cage, because the smell had gotten worse. Chuck sighed. "I guess we better clean their cage before the whole store starts smelling like chinchilla pee."

"Chuck, your hands. You don't want to get an infection. You shouldn't be cleaning the cage. I'll do it."

Chuck glanced around. The janitor's cart was nearby and Chuck stepped over and pulled out a new pair of rubber gloves. "There," he said, holding up his rubber-encased hands. "No problem."

Sarah looked at him dubiously and shook his head.

"C'mon," Chuck said. "Cleaning chinchilla cages isn't in the super secret agent spy manual. I had a hamster as a kid. Besides, I need you to watch the chinchillas while I clean the cage."

Sarah looked at him dubiously, but then shrugged. "Okay, but be careful."

Sarah looked around and found an empty cardboard box. She gently lifted the first chinchilla out of its cage and gently placed it in the box, then reached in and took out the second one. She held it up, rubbed its soft fur against her face.

Chuck flipped the latches and took the chinchilla's cage apart so he could clean out the old wood shavings from the bottom and put in a fresh batch. He glanced over at Sarah who had put the one chinchilla into the box and lifted out the other to gently pet its fur. "And which one are you?" she asked it in a sing-song voice.

Watching Sarah play with the chinchillas, Chuck couldn't help but grin. Sarah seemed positively excited about seeing the chinchillas again. She was so hard to figure out. Usually she was this hard-nosed, no-nonsense secret agent. But every once in a while – not often, but now and then – she let what Chuck thought of as her 'girly' side out to play. That was the Sarah who could laugh unabashedly while playing a game with Ellie and Awesome, or who enjoyed cooking, or who could be so gentle giving Chuck a bath. 'Okay,' Chuck thought. 'Don't start dwelling on that last one or this could get embarrassing.'

Chuck shook his head. Sometimes it was hard to wrap his mind around 'girly Sarah.' Not that he was complaining, mind you. At times like these, he could almost pretend that he was a normal guy and she was a normal girl and they were a normal couple – no guns or spies or crazed Middle Eastern bombers.

He was just about to put the cage back together when he heard a noise from the front of the store. He looked over at Sarah and whispered, "What was that?"

Sarah dropped the chinchilla into the box and whipped out her gun. Chuck felt his heart start to race and his breath quicken. Images of the other Buy Mores, smoke and fire and burned bodies flashed through his mind.

Sarah moved over next to Chuck and leaned in to whisper in his ear. He couldn't help himself; even with the fear and tension and uncertainty, the feel of her warm breath in his ear sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. "Call Casey," she whispered. "Tell him we have an intruder in the Buy More. Then hide."

Chuck nodded and slowly set down the top of the chinchilla cage. He pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial for Casey's cell phone as he watched Sarah creep out of the back room toward the front of the store. His fantasy of girly-Sarah and the normal couple shattered into a million pieces and then evaporated like smoke.

Casey picked up on the second ring. "Casey."

"Casey, it's Chuck. We're at the Buy More. I think someone's in the store," Chuck hissed. "We heard a noise. Sarah went to check it out and told me to call you."

"Find a hole and crawl in," Casey barked. Chuck could hear the squeal of tires and the sound of an engine being gunned in the background. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Okay," Chuck whispered.

"Bartowski!" Casey barked. "Stay down. Don't try and be a hero."

"Wasn't planning on it," Chuck replied. With that, Casey cut the connection.

"Find a hole," Chuck muttered. "Find a hole."

He looked around the back room for a place to hide. First, he crawled under the workbench along the front wall, but looking around, he felt horribly exposed. He got out and started looking around for some other place to hide. There was a stack of boxes in the corner, maybe he could hide in the middle of them, like he and Morgan had done when those Triad thugs were in the store.

No, there was no opening in the boxes and moving them would make too much noise, even if he could manage it with his bandaged hands.

"Find a hole. Find a hole," he muttered again.

There was another noise from the front of the store, and his eyes widened. "Stay in the car, Chuck," he muttered. But the thought of Sarah confronting dangerous terrorists all by herself, without Casey for back-up, left him cold. He took a deep breath, grimaced, and quietly slipped through the door into the main store to see what he could do to help.


	17. Chinchillitas

Yes, it's been awhile since my last update. Real Life and writer's block intervened to trip me up, but writer's block has been banished (for now) and I had a burst of energy so I was able to knock out a good bit of work. I can promise that it won't be so long until the next update. In fact, I already have a draft of the next chapter; it just needs a little work.

Thanks, as usual, to my editor **Poa** for her help and suggestions.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 17

Chinchillitas

Chuck took a deep breath and slowly eased around the doorframe to peer into the darkened Buy More. If he had thought the store looked creepy before, now he felt like he was about to step out into the middle of one of those slasher movies. He just hoped he was the hero and not the nerdy guy who got wacked in the second act for trying to prove he was brave. Oh, who was he kidding? Of course he was the nerdy guy. Sarah was the plucky heroine who survived despite all the odds.

Speaking of... there was no sign of Sarah. Or of anyone else. He slowly slipped out of the doorway and into the nearest aisle, crouching so he could stay hidden behind the shelves. He crept slowly down the aisle, listening carefully for any sound. It was all he could do not to call for Sarah.

Suddenly, there was a crash in the next aisle and he heard a familiar, drunken voice say, "Jeff! Quiet! We don't want to disturb the chinch... the chinchi... the little animals in case they're gettin' their groove on."

"Oh. Right. Sorry," came the drunken reply (although with Jeff it was sometimes hard to tell the difference between drunk and sober, which begged the question of whether he was ever sober).

Chuck sighed and straightened up. "What are you guys doing?" he asked in a loud, clear voice.

"Shhhh! Quiet, Jeff," Lester said, in a voice loud enough to be heard clear out in the parking lot.

"It wasn't me... I don't think," Jeff replied.

Chuck walked around to the head of the next aisle to confront Drunk and Drunker. They were still wobbling down the aisle more or less in the direction of the back room. "Jeff! Lester!" he called.

The pair spun around and blinked in surprise at the sight of Chuck standing there in what they assumed was an empty store.

"It's the Bomber!" Jeff cried.

"You moron," Lester replied, slapping Jeff on the arm. "It's Chuck. Hello, Charles. You're not the Bomber, are you?" He blinked and tried to focus on Chuck. "But why are you wearing gloves?"

Chuck quickly stuck his bandaged hands behind his back. "What are you two doing here?" he asked, trying to bring the conversation back to his original query.

"Shhh," Lester said. "We're checking on the ch- ch- chinchillas to make sure they're making lots of baby chinchillas."

"Chinchillitas," Jeff said.

Lester looked up at his taller companion. "Why Jeffery! I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"I am a man of many talents," Jeff said. "Did you know I can burp the entire William Tell Overture? Do you wanna hear me?"

"No, no," Chuck cut in, holding up his hands, before wincing and sticking them back out of sight. "I think we can dispense with the gastronomic concert. I was just cleaning out the chinchillas' cage, since you guys didn't do it like I asked."

"Any chinchillitas?" Jeff asked.

"No, Jeff. No babies yet," Chuck said, shaking his head.

"Well, that's probably because you disturbed them," Lester said. "C'mon, Jeff. Let's go back to Bennie's. I hear a beer calling my name."

"Beer and I are on a first name basis," Jeff replied happily.

"Great. Go," Chuck said. "Leave me to take care of _your_ chinchillas." Of course, he should have remembered that sarcasm was lost on the inebriated.

Jeff and Lester staggered back toward the front of the store. "I like that word. It's fun to say," Jeff said. "Chinchilla. Chinchilla, chinchilla, chinchilla."

"We can drink a toast to the chinchillitas," Lester said as the two bounced off the doorframe and staggered out of the store.

Chuck shook his head as he watched them go, wondering if they had been sober at all since they left the store yesterday. Had it only been yesterday since he had last seen them? he wondered. It seemed like ages ago.

He heard a noise and spun around, only to see Sarah emerge from behind one of the Buy More standees. "Oh God, you scared me," he said.

"Sorry," Sarah apologized, sticking her gun back in her waistband. "How come you didn't make them finish cleaning the cage?" she asked. "It's their chinchilla farm."

"I think subjecting the chinchillas to them in this condition could be considered cruelty to animals," Chuck shrugged. "It's bad enough _I_ have to deal with those two. And I don't mean the chinchillas."

Sarah smiled. "Maybe you should let me finish cleaning the cage."

"It's basically done," Chuck said. "I was just about to put the cage back together and get them some fresh food and water."

"Well, let's finish up and then get _you_ some fresh food and water," Sarah said. "You look tired."

"It's been a long day," Chuck agreed. "I feel like going home and just crawling into bed."

"Really?" Sarah asked, the ghost of a smile on her face.

Chuck's eyes widened as he remembered that he was staying at Sarah's apartment. "I… I meant… That is to say…" he stammered.

Sarah's smile grew just a little wider as she headed back to the store room.

Chuck sighed deeply and followed her.

Sarah stepped into the Cage and looked down. "Oh no!" she cried. "The chinchillas!"

Chuck hurried in next to her and looked down to see what she was talking about. The box in which they had left the chinchillas was on its side and the chinchillas were missing. "They've escaped!" he cried. He started to look frantically about the Cage.

"Here, chinchillas!" he called. "Where are you?"

Sarah joined in the search, getting on her hands and knees to look under the work bench.

Predictably, Sarah began a methodical search, dividing the storage room into sectors and carefully scouring each one before moving to the next. Chuck, on the other hand, looked randomly here and there, including looking in places it would have been impossible for the chinchillas to reach.

Occasionally, Chuck would make a little "tck, tck, tck," noise. Finally, Sarah paused. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Looking for the chinchillas," Chuck replied, exasperation in his tone.

"I meant that noise," Sarah said.

"I'm, ah, trying to make chinchilla noises."

"So, you think you can talk to them?" Sarah asked with a grin.

Chuck rolled his eyes at her and went back to his search; but he stopped making noises.

Once they finished combing the back room, Chuck looked at Sarah and shrugged. They turned and headed out into the main part of the store.

Just as Chuck pushed the door open, he heard a crash.

He shook his head. "Jeff! Lester!" he called as he barged out into the store, "I told you I would take care of the…" He froze.

Instead of Jeff and Lester, two men dressed in Buy More maintenance crew coveralls were carrying a large box into the store. He recognized the first immediately - Hassan Nidal a/k/a The Postman: the man he had flashed on earlier. The same man they had seen on the security feed of the North Hollywood Buy More just before the explosion that destroyed that store. The same man that had almost killed Sarah with that same explosion.

Chuck looked quickly at the next man. His eyes glazed over and a series of images flashed through his head: a junked car, the diagram of a bomb, a Mossad file on Red Jihad, a mug shot of the man – Ahmad Qadir – a known Palestinian terrorist, a destroyed school bus, a junked car.

Chuck staggered backward a step, bumping into Sarah. "Chuck," Sarah hissed. "Did you just flash?"

Chuck nodded.

"Hello," Ahmad Qadir said in heavily accented English. "We are here making a delivery for Michael Tucker, the store manager. We were told to simply leave it here." As he spoke, he slowly shifted his weight a little so he could hold the large box with one hand and started to reach into the pocket of his coveralls.

"Chuck, get down!" Sarah cried, pushing Chuck out of the way and reaching for her own gun.

Sarah squeezed off a shot at the younger man and dove out of the line of his return fire. Bullets zinged off the floor as two quick shots barely missed her and thudded into boxes of mini refrigerators on the back shelves.

Sarah squeezed off another shot at Ahmad to keep him down and then tracked over, attempting to locate Hassan. Seeing him ducking into the next aisle, she squeezed off a shot that tore into the only part of him still visible - his calf. There was a muffled cry from Hassan as Sarah shifted her attention back to Ahmad.

Chuck, cringing behind boxes that he fervently hoped held something that would stop bullets, looked frantically about for some means of escape. He was just about to make a dash for the doorway to the back room when one of Ahmad's shots pinged off the door. "Okay, not that way," he muttered.

He leaned forward to look around his makeshift cover, trying to see if he could get to the front of the store and make a run for help. The muzzle flash of Ahmad's gun and the sound of a bullet thudding into the boxes inches from his face sent him scurrying backwards on his hands and knees.

"Chuck!" Sarah called. "Are you okay?"

"Y- Yeah!" Chuck called back. "But I'm trapped."

"Stay down!" Sarah yelled.

Chuck scowled. What did she think he was doing? He looked at the back door again, judging his chances of making it through the door before one of the terrorists shot him. "No, Chuck," he muttered. "Stay down." The back door was in the line of fire and the terrorists were between him and the front door. He closed his eyes as he tried to recall the store layout.

Leaning against the boxes, he felt them jump as another bullet slammed into them. He had to do something. He reached for the only real weapon he had – his cell phone.

Hitting the autodial, he waited as it rang. "Pick up, Casey. Pick up, Casey," he muttered.

"Casey."

"Casey, it's Chuck. Two guys with really big guns and what I assume is a bomb are here in the Buy More. They have Sarah pinned down and…"

"Drop the phone," came a deep, accented voice from behind him. Chuck felt something warm and hard press into the back of his neck.

Chuck slowly raised his hands as he let the cell phone slip from his fingers to clatter to the floor.

"Stand up. Slowly," the voice hissed with what sounded like pain.

'I wish I knew kung fu,' Chuck thought as he slowly rose to his feet, his face a mask of fear and helplessness. Once he was fully standing, he felt the rough material of a Buy More coverall slide across his throat while the barrel of the gun left the back of his neck only to be pressed to his temple.

"You there!" the man behind him yelled. "I have your friend! Come out or I will kill him."

"Sarah!" Chuck called plaintively.

"All right!" Sarah's voice called from behind a stack of boxes at the end of the next aisle. "I'm coming out. Don't shoot."

Sarah slowly straightened, her gun in her raised hands.

Ahmad stood from where he had been crouching, his gun leveled at Sarah. "Drop your weapon!" he called.

"Okay, okay," Sarah said, slowly crouching to lay her gun gently on the floor. Chuck could see her eyes darting back and forth between Ahmad and Hassan, no doubt gauging the possibility of taking them out without harm to Chuck.

Chuck felt a hand press between his shoulder blades and shove him roughly toward Sarah. He stumbled forward and barely managed to not slam into her. He kept his hands raised as he slowly turned around to stand beside Sarah. "Sorry," he whispered.

"It's not your fault, Chuck," Sarah assured him.

'Yeah, right,' he thought, looking at their captors. Hassan limped over to stand next to Ahmad, wincing each time his weight shifted to his injured leg. Chuck glanced down to see that Hassan's right heel left a little red smear on the floor. Chuck felt the bile rise in his throat, but swallowed hard to drive it back down.

Hassan stopped next to Ahmad and leveled his gun at Sarah. His eyes narrowed and his hand tightened on the pistol's grip. Chuck eyes widened. He had dealt with enough bad guys. He knew that look. That murderous glare.

Just then, the doors at the front of the store opened and Casey entered, his hands likewise raised beside his head. Another man, also dressed in Buy More coveralls, walked behind him, a gun pointed at his back. Chuck closed his eyes as he felt the flash begin. But he didn't need the flash to tell him that the man standing before his was none other than Abdul al Fayed. al Fayed was older and grayer than the photos Chuck had seen in the CIA files, and his face was more gaunt and seemed somehow harder. But there would have been no question, even without the flash, that Chuck was looking at the Buy More Bomber.

Chuck opened his eyes and looked at al Fayed. It was the eyes, he decided. The eyes were what were harder - cold, dead eyes that seemed to regard the entire world with contempt. Mr. Colt might have been intimidating, but al Fayed radiated danger and evil the way a fire radiated light and heat.

"This one came driving up a moment ago," al Fayed said, as he shoved Casey forward. He looked over at Chuck and then Sarah. As his eyes met Sarah's a strange look crossed his face. It seemed to Chuck that it was almost a look of recognition. Then al Fayed blinked twice and shook his head a little and the cold, hard sneer he had when entering the store returned.

"These two were in the store," Ahmad said, indicating Chuck and Sarah with a jerk of his gun. "What should we do with them?"

al Fayed shoved Casey again until he was standing next to Chuck and Sarah.

"What happened?" Sarah whispered.

"Got distracted by Bartowski's phone call," Casey practically spat. "The old bastard got the drop on me as I was getting out of the car."

"Sorry," Chuck whispered.

"Silence!" al Fayed barked. His eyes narrowed as he looked over his three prisoners. His eyes never left Sarah as he tilted his head slightly to say to Ahmad, "The bomb will take care of them. Find something to tie them up."


	18. Here a Chinchilla, There a Chinchilla

Sorry for the delay in updating, but the family and I were busy cruising through Alaska. What a wonderful trip. I highly recommend it. I know this is a short chapter, but I wanted to get it out there because it has a scene I've been planning from the start and I'm excited to finally get to use it. Never fear, I already have a draft of the next chapter and I'm hoping to update much quicker than I have been.

Thanks, as always, to my editor, **Poa**, she of the well-wielded red pen. Thanks, **Poa**, for all your suggestions and support.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 18

Here a Chinchilla, There a Chinchilla

"The bomb will take care of them'" Abdul al Fayed said to his two lieutenants, who were holding Chuck, Sarah, and Casey prisoner. "Find something to tie them up."

Hassan's eyes never left Sarah. "Let me shoot this one," he said, jerking his chin at her and then glancing down at his injured leg.

"No!" al Fayed shouted so forcefully that Hassan winced and jerked his attention back to his leader. al Fayed took a moment to compose himself before he turned to glare at Hassan. He looked down at the leg Hassan was clearly favoring. "You let a woman do this to you?" he sneered. "You have gone soft in my absence."

al Fayed's eyes drifted back over to Sarah, and Chuck saw that same, almost wistful expression cloud his features. Chuck frowned in thought for a moment and then his eyes widened. "Rachel," he muttered. He flinched, realizing that he had spoken aloud.

Chuck could practically feel Sarah and Casey's disapproving stares. al Fayed's eyes narrowed as his gaze snapped from Sarah to Chuck. "What did you say?" he growled.

"Nothing, nothing," Chuck insisted, raising his hands just a little higher for emphasis. "Um, I mean, I was just saying, um… Raphael! You know, Raphael, the archangel? He's kind of like, you know, my personal guardian angel and when I get a little stressed, you know, like now… well, I say a little prayer…"

"Silence!" al Fayed shouted.

Sarah sighed and Casey rolled his eyes.

al Fayed turned back to Ahmad. "What are you waiting for? I told you to find something to tie them up!"

Ahmad flinched and immediately scurried off through the dark store to find some rope.

al Fayed turned back to his three prisoners and leveled his gun at Chuck, who cringed. "Now, who are you?" he demanded.

Chuck glanced over at Sarah and Casey. Both were glaring defiantly at al Fayed.

"I said," al Fayed said more forcefully, lifting his gun just a little to emphasis his point, "tell me who you are, or I will shoot you now."

"Since you're going to blow us up anyway, what does it matter?" Casey snarled.

al Fayed smiled at him, but the tenor of his smile sent a shiver down Chuck's spine. "It is the difference between a quick death, and a slow one," al Fayed said calmly. He swung his gun over to Casey and lowered it to point at Casey's leg. "I can assure you, having your kneecaps shot away is quite painful."

Casey opened his mouth to speak, but Chuck, sensing that Casey was about to unleash one of his patented barbs at the true 'Buy More Bomber', interrupted him. "We're employees," Chuck said quickly. He swallowed hard as Casey glowered at him, but continued, "We were checking out the store because we got a call from security about some suspicious activity. In fact, they said that they were sending a team over right away to give us some backup. So, you know, you might want to go ahead and go because, well, they should be here any minute."

al Fayed fixed him with a dubious stare. "Do you think that I am stupid?" He shook his head. "Perhaps I should shoot you in the kneecap."

He lowered his gun towards Chuck's knee and Chuck cringed. Beside him, Sarah and Casey tensed. Fortunately, at that moment, Ahmad came back carrying a double handful of stereo cables. "I could not find rope," he said, holding up the mass of cables. "But we can use this."

al Fayed lowered his gun and looked at Ahmad. "It will have to do. Start with the large one, there," he said, gesturing toward Casey with his gun.

Ahmad grabbed the end of one of the cables and started to pull on it, but it was tangled with all the other cables. He pulled at it again, but it only seemed to make the tangle worse. He muttered a curse in Arabic and dropped the bundle of wires as he pulled at this wire and that, trying to get one free.

al Fayed watched him with growing exasperation and finally could take it no longer. "Give me that," he growled, sticking his gun in his pocket and reaching for the mass of wires.

Ahmad, with a shrug, started to hand the tangle of wires to al Fayed. In doing so, he took a step forward and got in the line of fire from Hassan to Casey. Hassan, wincing, started to take a step to his left in order to keep his gun trained on Casey. He grimaced and stepped to the left with his good leg, only to have his foot come down on something soft and squishy. There was a terrible sound, something between a scream and a squeal.

Everything seemed to happen at once. Ahmad and al Fayed looked over at Hassan to see what had caused the strange noise. Hassan, his right leg already crippled from the gunshot wound, lost his balance and started to topple over. Casey and Sarah, who had been watching carefully for an opening, jumped immediately into action. Sarah pushed Chuck to the right, spun to deliver a kick to the startled Ahmad's head, and in the same motion swept down to pick up her discarded gun.

Casey lashed out to plant his heel on Hassan's injured leg to ensure that he went down and then spun to deliver a roundhouse kick at al Fayed. The old terrorist, however, was too fast. He dodged the blow and fell back, clawing for his gun.

From behind the falling Hassan, a little furry creature went skittering under the nearest display rack.

Sarah, gun in hand, spun and snapped off a shot at Ahmad, but the shot went wide and Ahmad likewise scrambled for his gun.

al Fayed pulled his weapon, but Casey followed his initial attack with a vicious kick to al Fayed's elbow, sending his gun spinning out of his hand and down the aisle. Ahmad charged at Sarah, who snapped off a shot which caught him in the upper arm, but his momentum carried him into her, knocking her off her feet.

Chuck dodged behind a stack of boxes to watch Sarah and Casey deal with the terrorists, silently rooting for 'his team.' Casey and al Fayed continued to trade blows as Sarah and Ahmad disentangled themselves from one another. Suddenly, on the perimeter of the fighting, Hassan struggled to one knee and aimed his gun at Sarah.

"No!" Chuck cried and, rising from his hiding place, threw himself at Hassan. As Chuck crashed into Hassan, what seemed like a tremendous explosion sounded mere inches from his left ear, and he was suddenly blinded by a brilliant flash of light. He vaguely heard, at least in his right ear, a cry from Sarah. His arms and legs tangled with Hassan's and he pushed against Hassan to separate himself from the terrorist, only to have the heel of his palm press down hard on something wet and squishy.

Hassan screamed in pain as Chuck accidently pressed down on his injured leg in order to lever himself up. Between Casey's kick and the new abuse from Chuck, it was too much. Hassan passed out. He collapsed upon Chuck's legs, pinning him to the floor.

Chuck cursed and tried to slide out from under Hassan. Hearing Ahmad grunt, Chuck looked up to check on Sarah. A darkening patch was spreading from a wound on her shoulder. Oblivious to the pain, she continued to match Ahmad blow for blow.

"Casey!" Chuck cried, "Sarah's been shot!"

Bellowing his rage, Casey drew his arm back and delivered a tremendous blow to al Fayed's face, sending him skidding down one of the aisles. Turning quickly, he charged at Ahmad and body-slammed him into a display of digital cameras, sending cameras flying in every direction. Ahmad tried to struggle away, but a quick left-right combination caused him to stagger and then drop to the ground.

Casey spun quickly to face al Fayed, but the terrorist leader was not to be seen.

Chuck managed to pull himself out from under Hassan's dead weight and scrambled over to Sarah. "You've been shot!" he cried.

Sarah tilted her head and looked questioningly at Chuck as she puzzled over his words. Then she looked down at the scarlet stain which was continuing to spread across her shirt. "Oh," she murmured, slumping against Chuck.

"Where's al Fayed?" Casey bellowed.

"Casey!" Chuck yelled. "Help me with Sarah. She's been shot."

Casey glanced at Chuck and the tottering Sarah, then back toward the entrance to the store, and then back at Chuck. "Damn!" he muttered. In one fluid motion, he scooped Sarah into his arms and started toward the employee breakroom and the entrance to Castle. "Watch them!" he yelled over his shoulder as he kicked the door open and exited.

Chuck looked around, bewildered, before spotting a gun on the floor. He reached for it as if sticking his hand in a rattlesnake den and picked it up with shaking hands. He looked from the unconscious Hassan to the unconscious Ahmad, trying to decide which one to point it at, when the front doors banged open. Three men in black tactical gear burst in and leveled submachine guns at Chuck.

Slowly, he raised his hands.


	19. Once More Unto the Breach, Dear Friends

Thank you, as ever, to **Poa** for her editing. Thanks, also, to everyone who has been faithfully following this monstrosity, and especially those who were kind enough to leave reviews.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 19

Once More Unto the Breach, Dear Friends

Chuck stared, wide-eyed, at the three dark figures leveling sub-machine guns at him. They were dressed all in black, with close-fitting helmets, shooting glasses, tac vests, knee pads, combat boots and very scary looking Heckler & Koch MP5A2 submachine guns (which Chuck recognized from one of his previous flashes). Yet all Chuck could think was, 'Hey! Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six!'

"Drop the weapon!" the man in the center shouted.

Chuck furrowed his brows and looked at him. The three advanced closer, keeping their weapons trained on Chuck. "I said, drop the weapon," the man yelled again, slightly louder.

Chuck looked at him, then up at the gun in his hand, then back at the man. "Oh," he cried. "Oh! You mean me. This... this weapon." He slowly lowered his hands and dropped the weapon to the floor. "But I'm not... This isn't..."

One of the three 'Rainbow Team' members (as Chuck was thinking of them) lowered his weapon, moved cautiously around behind him, and shoved him roughly to the ground. "Stay down," he commanded.

"Hey. Hey!" Chuck shouted. "It's not what it... I'm not... I'm one of the good guys!"

Chuck felt a knee pressing into the middle of his back as the man grabbed his wrists and cable-tied them together. "Ow!" Chuck yelled as the man cinched the restraints tightly around his injured hands. He could hear footsteps as the rest of the tactical team spread out throughout the store. After a moment, he heard the man in front of him say into his radio, "We're clear."

Fighting down his panic, Chuck took a deep breath, then another. He closed his eyes, focused, and when he opened them again he spoke in a clear, steady tone. "I'm Special Agent Charles Carmichael, FBI. These two are members of Red Jihad and that big box at the end of the aisle is probably a bomb, so I suggest you let me up and call the bomb squad." He struggled to lift his head and look at the Rainbow guy in front of him. "And Abdul al Fayed, the mastermind of this operation, is escaping as we speak. So I suggest you get off of me and start looking for him," he continued.

"Let him up." The vaguely feminine voice was raspy, and familiar.

The pressure of the knee in his back eased, and he was hauled roughly to his feet. In front of him, a cigarette dangling from her lips, was Captain Barbara Anders, the LAPD officer heading up the Buy More Bomber investigation. She was still in a cheap suit that looked like she had slept in it, but the dark roots of her short bleach-blonde hair had been touched up.

Captain Anders reached up, took a long drag from her cigarette, and slowly blew it out. "Agent Carmichael," she said. "Fancy meeting you here." She made a show of looking around. "Where's Agent Casey?"

"Agent Walker was injured. He's taking her to get medical attention," he said. As soon as the words crossed his lips, the implication of what he had just said came flooding over him. Sarah had been shot! She was bleeding! He had no idea whether she was okay or if the wound was serious. He felt his knees grow weak and he had to fight to stay upright.

He struggled against his restraints and glared at Anders. She looked past him and nodded. Chuck felt something cold and hard slip between his hands and slice through the restraints. Rubbing his sore wrists, he looked past Anders to the large box sitting at the head of the aisle.

"Um, since that's probably a bomb, do you think we could get out of here?" he asked.

Anders looked over at the head of the Rainbow Team (which Chuck now recognized as an LAPD SWAT team). "Bomb squad's on the way," the man said.

"Clear it out," Anders said.

A SWAT member - no doubt the one who had forced him to the ground - stepped up from behind to stand next to Chuck. Two others grabbed the inert forms of Hassan and Ahmad and then the entire team, with Chuck in tow, hustled out of the store.

"The terrorists are using a GB-43 industrial detonator," Chuck said to Anders as she led him toward a SWAT van parked a discrete distance from the front of the store. "Radio-controlled. Do you have an RF jammer?"

"The bomb squad will have one," she said. "They'll be here in..." She looked over at the SWAT team leader.

"ETA eighteen minutes," he said.

"But al Fayed got away," Chuck protested. "He could be right here, ready to detonate the bomb."

"Nothing I can do," Anders said. "We have to wait for the bomb squad. I don't exactly carry an RF jammer in my pants pocket."

Chuck looked away from Anders and panned across the store. His stomach did a flip flop. Casey and Sarah were in the Castle, _under_ the Buy More. If the bomb went off...

"I can get us one," Chuck said suddenly. He pulled away from the startled SWAT member at his elbow and ran toward the store.

"Stop!" Anders shouted. One of the tactical team started after him, but a shout from Anders brought him up short.

Chuck ran into the store, his mind racing. That guy he had met down in Miami, Michael Westen*, could no doubt assemble an RF jammer out of two cell phones, a coffee can and some duct tape, but Chuck knew he was no Michael Westen. He had one chance.

He ran through the store, past the large cardboard box that he expected to go 'boom' at any moment, and into the employee breakroom. Ignoring the pain in his hands, he tore open the lockers to reveal the secret stairway down into the Castle.

He started down the stairs, stopped, and went back up and shut the door. He didn't know how much protection it would give against a blast, but he figured it was better than nothing. Then he was off down the stairs two at a time. He hit the bottom with a loud 'thud', grabbed the bottom of the handrail to allow his momentum to spin him around the corner, and ran full speed toward the main room and the Castle computer.

Reaching the console, he pushed the chair out of the way and hunched over the keyboard, frantically typing in commands.

From one of the side rooms, Casey emerged, gun at the ready, trying to identify the source of the commotion.

"Bartowski! What the hell are you doing?" he bellowed.

"Hyngum!" Chuck said. He didn't bother to turn around, he just held up a finger to silence Casey before typing furiously again on the keyboard.

He finished entering the required commands, then let out a huge sigh, turned and slumped against the console.

"What the hell did you do, Bartowski?" Casey asked.

"The police didn't have an RF jammer, so I activated Castle's jammer and increased the field to cover the Buy More. That way al Fayed can't use the GB-43 to detonate the bomb."

"I already did that," came a weary voice from behind Casey. Sarah lurched into view from behind Casey, her shirt torn away and a large bandage covering her shoulder.

"Sarah!" Chuck cried. He ran to her, grabbed her, and pulled her to him.

"Chuck, that hurts," Sarah slurred.

"Oh! Oh God, I'm sorry," Chuck apologized, pulling away. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Hell no, she's not okay," Casey said. "She's got a bullet in her shoulder. We need to get her to the hospital. I can't get it out here."

"Casey gets squeamish doing surgery," Sarah slurred as she slumped against Chuck. Her eyes were half-closed and she was struggling to stay awake.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Chuck asked frantically. "Let's get her to the hospital!"

"I just finished bandaging the wound, Moron," Casey said.

"Who's watching the terrorists?" Sarah asked, stumbling over the words.

"Casey's girlfriend, Captain Anders, is upstairs with what I think is all of the Rainbow Six team. She pulled Ahmad and Hassan out of the building and has them in custody," Chuck said.

"And you ran back into the store so you could lead the entire LAPD to our secret base," Casey spat. "Nice going, numbskull. Perhaps the concept of 'secret base' is a little too complex for you?"

"Casey..." Sarah said. She turned to Chuck. "Chuck, you go back out and handle Anders. Casey will get me to the CIA ward at County General."

"But... I want to take you," Chuck protested.

"Listen, knucklehead..." Casey started.

"Chuck," Sarah interrupted. "You went in the store. If you don't come back out, Anders is going to get suspicious. We can't blow our cover. You can meet me at the hospital later."

Chuck started to protest, but Sarah paled and started to slip down the doorframe she had propped herself up against.

"Go!" Casey barked.

Reluctantly, Chuck headed back toward the stairs to the Buy More. He stopped and cast a worried glance at Sarah. "Hang on, Sarah," he said. "I'll be right there." Then he turned and sprinted toward the stairs.

"So let me get this straight," Casey said, lifting Sarah into his arms and carrying her up the stairs to the Orange Orange. "The heroic imbecile clocked me so he could run into a burning building, he put himself in the line of fire to tackle a Red Jihad agent, and now he runs into the Buy More knowing full well that a bomb could explode at any moment."

"That's our Chuck," Sarah said, her head lolling against Casey's shoulder.

***

* Author's Note: See my story _Chuck Versus the Burn Notice_.


	20. Second Home

Much to her chagrin, I have a salute to my faithful proofreader herein. Thanks again, my friend, for all your help.

Yes, as some have noted, the chapters are a little shorter, but they coming a lot more quickly. At least for now. So it's a trade-off.

So fasten your seatbelts, put up those tray tables, and make sure your seats are in their full upright and locked position, because it's time for…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 20

Second Home

Chuck ran into the hospital, pinballing off doctors, nurses, and patients as he charged through the halls toward the 'special section' of County General. He muttered hasty 'excuse me's and 'sorry's as he practically flattened the startled bystanders.

It had taken much longer than he would have liked to extract himself from Captain Anders, the LAPD's lead investigator for the Buy More bombings. As Chuck had fidgeted and obfuscated, Anders had grilled him about the two captured and one escaped terrorist at the Burbank Buy More. Chuck suspected she had delayed him in the hopes that Casey would eventually appear. It had finally taken the appearance of a 'senior FBI official' – actually the head of the NSA's West Coast field office – to extricate Chuck from Ander's clutches.

Chuck barreled through the set of doors into the waiting area for the operating room and was just about to push on through into the operating room itself when he was grabbed and jerked around by a vise-like grip on his arm.

"Whoa, Bartowski. Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Chuck glared at the offending hand and then up at John Casey. "Sarah…" was all he managed to choke out.

"Walker's in surgery," Casey said without relaxing his grip. "And they don't need you in there."

Chuck jerked his arm away from Casey – or rather, tried to. Casey's grip remained firm. Chuck continued to glare at him. Casey simply stood impassively.

Chuck blinked and his annoyed expression melted into one of confusion. "Casey?" he said, as if noticing the big man for the first time.

Casey eased Chuck over to one of the chairs in the waiting room. Casey had seen enough cases of shock to recognize it instantly. Hell. He was surprised the kid had made it this far without curling into a ball and sucking his thumb. Bartowski was proving much tougher than he ever would have guessed – not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

He felt for the kid. But, dammit, if he didn't stop sticking his nose in it, one of these days he was going to lose it – or some other part of his anatomy. In his long career, Casey had protected general's daughters, material witnesses, Afghani warlords and the occasional defector. But none of them had ever been as much trouble as this simple computer nerd from Southern California. Okay, maybe not so simple.

Bartowski really needed a good talking to. Or maybe a little smacking around. But looking into his saucer-like eyes, Casey knew neither would be terribly productive right now. Okay, maybe the smacking around would help _his_ mood, but then he'd have to listen to Walker's endless bitching about proper care and feeding of the asset (and, ever since their first fight there in the Weinerlicious, there was a little, tiny part of him that was just a little scared of Walker) so that wasn't really a viable option right now.

Besides, another little voice deep inside said that he was worried about Walker, too. He tried to tell himself it was just because he didn't want the hassle of breaking in another partner, but he knew that wasn't entirely true.

Dammit! Walker and Bartowski were both getting to him. Much longer in this assignment and he was in imminent danger of developing lady feelings.

Casey sighed, looked down at Chuck, and tried to keep his voice as calm and level as possible. He partly succeeded. "Listen, Bartowski. I know you're worried about Walker. But she's going to be fine. Believe me, I've seen plenty of gunshot wounds and this was nothing. A flesh wound. Hell, she dinged her father worse than this."

Chuck looked up with wide eyes. "Really? She's really gonna be okay? Did you talk to the doctors?"

"Well, no," Casey admitted. "But trust me. I know." He ground his teeth. He hated this 'consoling' crap. That what the military had chaplains for, so officers like him wouldn't have to go through this. "Walker's tough. She'll be fine. Trust me."

Chuck brightened a little and nodded. "I do trust you, Casey. I was… I am… just so scared. There was so much blood."

Casey shook his head. How could this kid go from running into a burning building and tackling terrorists to flesh-colored jello? "Bartowski, you think a paper cut is grounds for a Purple Heart. Now, I said that Walker's going to be okay, or are you going to call me a liar?"

At that, surprisingly, Chuck smiled. "No, Casey, I would never call you a liar. Not to your face, anyway." There merest hint of a twinkle in his eye took away any sting from the veiled accusation. "How long has she been in surgery?"

Casey glanced down at his watch. "Hour. Hour and a half. What took you so long, anyway?"

"Your girlfriend, Anders," Chuck sighed. "I don't think she liked having the FBI crack her case. Of course, she could have just been pissed that you ran out on her."

Casey ignored that last crack and asked, "Did they catch al Fayed?"

Chuck shook his head. "No. They cordoned off the area and did a hard-target search, but no luck."

"A what?" Casey asked.

"A hard-target search. Isn't that what they called it on The Fugitive? You know," he switched into his best Tommy Lee Jones imitation, 'I want a search of every warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in the area.'"

Casey narrowed his eyes. "I've got no idea what the hell you're talking about."

Chuck shook his head. "You really need to get out more, Casey." He started to grin, but then glanced around at the drab, institutional surroundings and remembered where he was. The grin faded away. "Anyway, with Hassan and Ahmad in custody, do you think al Fayed will, I don't know, run and hide?"

It was Casey's turn to shake his head. "No. Not my read on this guy. He's had a setback, yeah, but he's not going to give up trying to hurt Finkelstein. He's had too much time thinking about nothing but revenge." He stopped and rubbed his chin. "In fact, my guess is he stops messing around with the stores and tries to hit Finkelstein directly." He narrowed his eyes and looked past Chuck, thinking.

Chuck waited, but when Casey didn't continue, he slumped in his chair and looked over at the door, willing the doctor to come and give them some good news.

After a long pause, Casey shook his head and sat down in a chair opposite Chuck, a frown of concentration on his face. After a few minutes, he looked up at Chuck. He almost smiled.

Despite his worry, the kid's eyes were drooping. Casey didn't condemn him for it. Bartowski had been operating on pure adrenaline for the last several hours, if not days. It was a wonder he could still function at all.

"Why don't you go home, Bartowski," Casey said. "I'll call you when there's any word."

Chuck shook himself awake and straightened in his chair. "I'm okay. I'll wait."

As if on cue, the doors opened and a woman in green scrubs and a loosened surgical mask stepped in. She glanced from Chuck to Casey and back again. "Which one of you is Agent Carmichael?"

Caught off guard by the question, Chuck hesitated a moment. Casey spoke up. "That's agent Carmichael. I'm Agent Casey. How's Agent Walker?"

"She's going to be fine," the surgeon said. "Amazingly, the bullet passed through without hitting any bone or lung tissue. It did nick the subclavian vein, which accounted for the blood loss. It's a good thing she was brought here right away. We repaired the vein and some minor tissue damage. Barring infection, she should make a complete recovery."

"Thank God," Chuck breathed. "Can we see her?"

"She's in recovery right now," the surgeon said. "She's still going to be under from the anesthetic…" She noted the familiar expression on Chuck and Casey's faces. She had seen it, unfortunately, too many times from family members of her patients. "…but I don't see why you can't peek in on her."

Chuck felt as if his entire body had turned to tapioca and he suddenly had trouble standing upright. "Thank you, doctor… um…"

"Poa," the surgeon said. "Doctor Lynn Poa."

Chuck took the surgeon's hand and grasped it tightly. "Thank you, Doctor Poa. Thank you."

"How long is she going to be out of action?" Casey asked, always the practical one.

"We need to keep her for a day or two for observation. Then she'll need bed rest and some physical therapy to regain complete use of the arm, but from what I saw of Agent Walker, she should have no trouble making a complete recovery. She's a remarkable woman."

"That she is," Chuck breathed. "Can we see her now?"

The doctor nodded. "I'll take you to her."

***

Chuck hurried into the room ahead of the surgeon. Sarah lay in bed, surrounded by what seemed to Chuck an inordinate amount of machinery. Bags of fluid hung from a pole, trickling through clear tubing attached to the IV in her arm. She was pale and still; a tangle of wires stretched from under her hospital gown to the monitor above the bed. The waveform on the monitor indicated a strong and steady heartbeat. It seemed to Chuck that until he saw that heart rate monitor, his own heart hadn't been beating.

Chuck turned back to the surgeon. "You sure she's going to be okay? She doesn't need a transfusion, or anything? I'm not sure of her blood type, but if you need any of mine…"

"That's very generous of you… I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Chu… Um… Carmichael. Agent Charles Carmichael."

Doctor Poa raised an eyebrow above her almond-shaped eyes. "Agent Carmichael? Doctor Jennings has told me about you." Chuck's eyes went wide, but Doctor Poa held up a hand. "It's fine. I won't say anything. I'm bound by my Agency confidentiality agreement. Anyway, we had enough plasma on hand to take care of Agent Walker's needs, but anytime you want to donate blood it would be greatly appreciated." Then she looked down at his hands. "You may want to wait until your own injuries are healed however."

Chuck narrowed his eyes and cocked his head a little to the side, before muttering a quiet, 'oh' and looking down at his hands. He looked back over at Sarah. "I'd forgotten all about these," he said, lifting his hands slightly.

There was the sound of a throat clearing from the doorway and both Chuck and Doctor Poa turned to see John Casey standing in the doorway. "Doctor, per Agency protocol we will need a complete write-up on Agent Walker and her short and long term prognosis. General Beckman has to decide whether to assign a replacement."

"Replacement!" Chuck burst out, startled. "Casey, they wouldn't really replace Sarah, would they?"

"Not my call," Casey said, frowning. "But this isn't the time to be discussing it, _Agent Carmichael_."

Doctor Poa looked from Chuck to Casey, and decided that discretion was the better part of valor and started edging toward the door. "I will get a report to General Beckman by tomorrow. I should have a better idea of her long-term prognosis and any complications from the injury by then." She glanced back over at Chuck. "She'll be out for another hour or two. I can have the staff contact you when she's awake…"

"I'll stay," Chuck said.

"That's really not protocol, Agent Carmichael," the doctor said. "We have security on this…"

"I'll stay," Chuck said again, more forcefully.

Doctor Poa started to protest, but glancing up, she saw the fierce determination in Chuck's eyes. It seemed incongruous on such a sweet, innocent face. But then, she thought, the scuttlebutt around the hospital and the local NSA field office was that this Agent Carmichael was anything but sweet and innocent. He was, by all accounts, one of the top agents in the LA area, if not the entire West Coast. Rumor had it he had single-handedly taken down a half-dozen terrorists. She relented. "Very well. I'll inform the nursing staff and see if I can't get you a more comfortable chair."

Chuck didn't even look at her. He was still staring at the still figure of Sarah Walker. "Thank you, Doctor."

Doctor Poa looked from Chuck to Casey and back at Chuck. With a barely visible shrug she hurried from the room.

Once she was gone, Casey walked over to stand beside Chuck. "Come on, Bartowski. There's nothing you can do here. Walker will be fine."

Chuck turned and looked at Casey, and the fierceness of his gaze actually made Casey take a step back. "I'm staying, Casey," he said. He turned back and looked at Sarah, and then said again, in a low but steely voice, "I'm staying."

Casey opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again and shrugged. "I guess you'll be as safe here as anywhere. I have to go report in to Beckman." He stepped over to the doorway and paused. He looked at his partner and at his… friend? Yes, friend. Not that he would ever admit that to the nerd.

He watched as Chuck took Sarah's hand in his and slid down into the chair next to her bedside. Gritting his teeth, Casey stepped out into the hallway and looked for something or someone to hit. Not seeing any likely candidates, he settled for growling, "Abdul al Fayed, you're a dead man."


	21. The Care and Feeding of Sarah Walker

Don't get too hooked on these frequent updates. I just happen to be on a roll right now. But next week is looking pretty hairy in Real Life and my turn is rolling around again in the Authors Intersect Round Robin project, so I'm going to be pretty busy.

Doctor Poa is back, both in the story and in her gracious editing of my work. Thanks, Dr. P.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 21

The Care and Feeding of Sarah Walker

Sarah felt like she was floating. She was a little confused to realize that she was actually lying on a bed, with an irritable little pain in her left arm and a dull, throbbing pain in her left shoulder. Slowly, cautiously, she opened her eyes. The room was dark, thankfully. She had woken up too many times to the blinding lights of interrogators not to appreciate the subdued lighting of… where was she?

Slowly, as she blinked away the fog shrouding her mind, memories started to flood in. al Fayed and his henchmen, Chuck tackling Hassan, getting shot, Casey carrying her to the Castle, Chuck running into the Buy More to keep the bomb… Chuck! Where was Chuck?

She tried to sit up, but her body didn't want to respond. As she struggled, she became aware of the feeling of something soft and warm pressing against her right hand and something else pressing against the blankets on the right side of her body. Blinking again and summoning her considerable will-power, she slowly lifted her head.

The corners of her mouth twitched up slightly. There was no mistaking the mop of curly brown hair splayed across her light blue hospital blanket. Chuck had evidently fallen asleep sitting in the chair next to her bed. He was drooped over the side of the bed, his head resting next to her stomach. Even in sleep, he was still clutching her hand with his own bandaged-swathed right hand.

Despite the discomfort in her left shoulder, she reached up with her left hand and caressed his wild mane before twirling a finger in one of his unruly brown curls. It was funny, she thought. For a man she had never 'slept with,' she certainly spent a lot of time actually _sleeping_ with Chuck Bartowski.

She winced as her movements caused the stitches in shoulder to pull just a little, and she sucked in her breath. Chuck stirred a little under her hand and she held as still as she could until he settled down and his breath returned to its slow, steady rhythm.

"What am I going to do with you, Chuck?" she whispered. She gently stroked his hair. "Do you have any idea how hard you make it? How hard it is to treat you as just an asset?" She slid her fingers through his hair, reveling in the soft brown strands. "I've been on the arms of the rich and powerful, of dukes and dictators, and no one makes me feel as special as you do. And for a guy I'm supposed to be protecting, you have a nasty habit of saving my life."

She sighed as a single tear slipped down her cheek.

She felt Chuck start to stir again and quickly pulled her hand away. She dropped it to the bed beside her, lay back and closed her eyes, pretending to still be asleep.

Chuck gave a little groan and slowly sat up. Sarah felt Chuck's hand slip away from hers, and suddenly she felt very cold. Eyes still closed, she recognized the sound of Chuck stretching and yawning. This was followed by the smacking of his lips. In her mind's eye, Sarah could see the adorable way he scrunched up his face at his 'morning breath' and heard a 'huff', 'huff', 'sniff', 'sniff', as he no doubt tested his breath. It was hard to suppress a smile and pretend to still be asleep.

"Oh, man, I can't believe I fell asleep," Chuck muttered. "I wonder what time it is?"

There was a rustle as Chuck shifted in his chair. Sarah felt his soft touch as he gently stroked her hair. She wasn't sure why she pretended to be asleep. Perhaps because if she was awake, she would have to chide him for his most recent heroics. For now, it was nice to lay there and revel in his proximity without having to be 'the Agent' or 'the Protector.'

She felt something soft press against her forehead and realized, with a start, that he had just kissed her. It took all her agent skill and training not to open her eyes, wrap her arms around his neck, and pull him into a kiss of her own.

The soft stroking of her hair was back. "I was so scared," she heard Chuck whisper. "When Hassan shot you… I… I thought I lost you, Sarah. I don't know… I don't know what I would do if that happened. I…" She heard him let out a heavy sigh and felt him brush a stray hair back behind her ear. "It's made me realize something."

So softly that she wasn't quite sure she heard him correctly, he breathed, "I love you, Sarah Walker."

Startled, she gave a little jump and then quickly let out a little moan and yawned to hide the fact that she had already been awake.

Chuck started, and then grabbed her hand with both of his. "Sarah?" he asked. "Sarah, can you hear me?"

She made a show of blinking her eyes open and yawning. "Chuck? Where am I?" Her heart was pounding out a mambo in her chest and she hoped Chuck didn't glance over at the heart rate monitor to see just how excited she was. Sure, lots of men had told her that they loved her – usually to try and get her into bed. But none had spoken with such sincerity and intensity. None had been even remotely believable. Until now. Until Chuck. Until that quiet whisper he hadn't intended her to hear.

Part of her - the girly part she continually tried so hard to suppress but which Chuck seemed to draw out on a regular basis - wanted to squeal with delight. Wanted to shout from the rooftops, 'Chuck loves me!' Wanted to grab this wonderful, kind, caring man and take him in her arms and never let him go.

She allowed herself the briefest of moments to indulge in the dream. The Jenny Burton dream. The dream of the husband and kids and dog and house in the suburbs. The dream of being loved and accepted. The dream of a normal life.

And then she quashed it. Forced it out of her mind. She was a CIA officer. She had, as Casey was fond of saying, chosen something bigger than herself. It was her job to protect Chuck; to protect the Intersect, the Asset. She would never be normal. Hadn't Chuck told her that himself? Without the CIA, without The Job, what was she? Just some con man's daughter without any real family, without any friends, without a life. Graham and the CIA had given her purpose. Had made her who – what – she was. She had a job to do, dammit.

And yet…

The niggling little dream wouldn't die, no matter how hard she tried to strangle it. Maybe someday, a part of her insisted. If anyone could make you real, could make you normal, it would be…

"Chuck," she said, forcing aside the useless internal debate. She feigned confusion at where she was, not so hard to do considering the real confusion roiling inside of her. "Where am I?" she asked again, her voice scratchy.

"Oh… Here," Chuck said, reaching for a glass and spooning some ice chips into her mouth. "You're at County General. You were shot, remember?"

Sarah sucked the ice chips, stalling to gain time to compose herself. "I remember," she said finally. His broad smile seemed to send a wave of warmth running down to her toes that the ice in her mouth did nothing to supress. She sighed. They really needed to talk about this terrifying new habit he had of risking his life for her. "Chuck," she began.

The door to the room opened and Doctor Lynn Poa stepped in. She flipped the light switch, causing Sarah and Chuck both to blink rapidly as their eyes adjusted. Doctor Poa hurried across the room to Sarah's bedside.

"Agent Walker, you're awake," she said. She glanced at the heart rate monitor, and then picked up Sarah's wrist. "They called me because they noted a spike in your heart rate." She stood still for a moment, feeling Sarah's pulse. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Sarah looked up at her. "I'm fine. Perfectly fine. I feel great. When can I leave?"

Doctor Poa laughed. "Ms. Walker, I've dealt with enough agents to know that none of them like to spend any time in a hospital bed, and will lie through their teeth to get out. You've been shot. It wasn't bad… Well, getting shot is always bad, but at least you were lucky this time and the bullet didn't hit anything vital."

The doctor picked up Sarah's chart and made some notes. "The bullet passed through without hitting any bone or lung tissue. It nicked the subclavian vein and we had to do some surgery to repair the damage. It's a good thing that your partner brought you in right away or you could have bled out, even with his pressure bandage. We repaired the vein and some minor tissue damage. Barring infection, you should make a complete recovery. But I want to keep you for a couple days to monitor your progress."

"A couple days!" Sarah gasped.

"Are you sure that's long enough?" Chuck asked. "Shouldn't you keep her for a week or two, just to make sure she's recovering properly?"

Sarah shot him a nasty look and Chuck clamped his mouth tightly shut.

"I have medical training," Sarah said. "I know what to look out for. Surely I can complete any required convalescence at home."

The doctor looked skeptical. She had dealt with numerous agents and their belief that they were superhuman. "I'm keeping you at least for today," she said. "We can check tomorrow and see how you're doing and maybe, _maybe_ I can release you then… provided you have proper care and supervision at home."

"I can take care of her," Chuck offered quickly. This earned him another look from Sarah.

A ghost of a smile flitted across Doctor Poa's face. 'Ah, young love,' she thought. It was not unheard of for agents to become romantically involved with their partners. In fact, it happened much more often than the Agency would care to admit. "We can talk about that when we see how you are doing tomorrow."

Sarah sighed. It was difficult enough sharing her hotel room with Chuck, without having him doting on her 24/7. Suddenly, a thought struck her. Maybe Chuck wouldn't be with her at all. If she was out of commission, no matter how temporarily, then there was a good chance that Beckman would question her ability to properly guard Chuck. In Beckman's mind, the Asset and the Intersect were all that mattered and an injured agent would not be an effective tool for protecting the asset. And she had no illusions that she was anything other then a tool to Beckman. A tool to be used and, when no longer useful, thrown away. God how she missed Graham. Graham always had her back, even after that awful mess in Guatemala. And if another agent was assigned in her place…

"Ms. Walker," Doctor Poa said again, breaking Sarah out of her reverie.

Sarah looked up at her. "I'm sorry, Doctor? I must still be a little groggy from the anesthesia."

A knowing smile crossed Doctor Poa's lips. She recognized woolgathering when she saw it. "I was just saying that you are going to require some physical therapy once you have the stitches out in order to regain full range of motion in that arm. I'll send in the Agency physical therapist to talk to you about it."

Sarah looked down at her shoulder and her vanity got the better of her. Much of her effectiveness as an agent, she believed, was tied up with her appearance. "Will I have a scar?" she asked.

Doctor Poa smiled and shook her head. "General Beckman arranged for Doctor Alvarez, one of the best plastic surgeons in LA, to assist me. As long as you follow our instructions, there should be little to no scarring."

Sarah glanced over at Chuck, who smiled at her. "Don't worry," he said. "I won't mind a little scar."

Sarah tried not to blush.

The door to the room swung open and John Casey stepped in. "Good," he said, ignoring everyone in the room but Sarah. "You're awake. We need to talk."

Doctor Poa looked Casey up and down. She'd noticed the tall, solidly built agent the day before, but had still been in 'surgeon mode' when she had seen him, and he had been preoccupied with his partner. Agent Walker was obviously involved with Agent Carmichael, so maybe that mean Agent Casey was available. He wore no wedding ring, but then even the married agents seldom wore a ring.

"I'll be going," she said. "I'll check in on you later, Agent Walker. And, um, Agent Casey, if I could talk to you later? I want to get some… background information for my formal report."

Preoccupied, Casey barely glanced at her. "Sure. I'll stop by and see you later."

Doctor Poa was smiling as she left the room.

Chuck looked up expectantly at Casey. Sarah was not nearly so eager to hear what her partner had to say. She suspected it wasn't good news.

Casey checked the door to make sure no one was listening. "I just got off the horn with Beckman," he began.

Sarah cringed and braced herself for what was coming.


	22. Seeing the Forrest for the Trees

Another short chapter, but the next one is a little longer, I promise.

You may get tired of me saying it, but I don't. Thank you again, my dear Doctor Poa.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 22

Seeing the Forrest for the Trees

_Casey checked the door to make sure no one was listening. "I just got off the horn with Beckman," he began._

_Sarah cringed and braced herself for what was coming._

"Why hello, Chuck, Sarah. Nice to see you. I'm glad to see you're awake, Sarah. How are you feeling?" Chuck said pointedly to Casey.

Sarah laid her head back on the pillow and sighed. She wasn't in the mood for more of Casey and Chuck's bickering.

"Zip it, Bartowski," Casey growled. The harsh lighting of the hospital room threw Casey's tired face into shadow as he dropped his head slightly. His eyes were hollow and dark circles marred his usually stony face. While Casey seemed to wear a continual scowl, somehow his expression seemed to have a little something else alongside the 'pissed off military man' mien.

Rather surprisingly to both Sarah and Casey, Chuck did just that. He leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and glared at Casey. But he stopped talking.

Sarah sat up and looked at Casey. He was standing a few feet from the foot of her bed, at classic parade rest, his expression as inscrutable as always. Well, perhaps not completely, Sarah thought. There was something odd about the look in his eyes. Something Sarah hadn't seen since…

"Beckman has benched you," Casey said, interrupting her musing.

"What?" Chuck cried. "Benched her? What does that mean? Sarah, what's going on?"

Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat and twisted her blanket in white-knuckled fists. Who would have believed, just two short years ago, that her greatest fear wouldn't be crazed assassins or killer viruses or exploding retail stores, but rather simple reassignment? Leaving here, leaving Chuck, was too terrible to contemplate. But if she was benched…

"What are my orders?" Sarah asked, careful to keep her voice flat.

"Sarah," Chuck asked, his voice rising half an octave. "You're not being reassigned, are you? This is just while you get better, right?"

Sarah looked over at Chuck, fighting to keep her face calm and composed. "Chuck…."

Chuck looked into her eyes and swallowed the lump that now appeared in his throat. He gave her a minute nod.

Sarah turned back to Casey. "My orders?" she asked.

"Medical leave until you're fully cleared by an Agency doctor for field work. Reevaluation at that point to determine your suitability for the… current assignment."

"Meaning me," Chuck cut in.

Casey ignored him. "I convinced Beckman to give you the choice. You can convalesce at the Agency facility here – Twin Oaks I think it's called – or you can return to Washington."

"Casey," Sarah huffed. "I don't need to be stuck in some damned Agency nursing home."

Chuck, who had been listening to Casey, jerked his head around to gawk at Sarah. It was unusual for her to curse.

Casey shrugged. "If you can get the pill-pushers to okay it, you can probably do it out-patient. But Beckman's not going to clear you until you're one hundred percent."

"And in the meantime?" Sarah asked. "What about Chuck?"

Casey frowned. "Beckman's sending an agent. Some guy named Forrest. Alex Forrest. He's CIA."

"I don't need someone else," Chuck protested. "Sarah can protect me. She's fine. She said so herself."

Sarah and Casey ignored him. "What do you know about him?" Sarah asked. Secretly, she was a little relieved. At least if it was a male agent that was being assigned to Chuck's protection detail, then she didn't have to worry about that agent taking her place as Chuck's cover girlfriend. Maybe, just maybe, she could keep at least a tenuous hold on Chuck and his life. She was already rehearsing speeches in her head to give Beckman about 'maintaining cover' as Chuck's girlfriend, at least while she convalesced. And if she was still in place when she was released back to duty…

"Didn't have the chance to run him through the database," Casey said. "I'll give you the full rundown as soon as I do. But he'll be protection only, not cleared to know about the Intersect." He frowned. "So what are you going to do?"

Sarah sighed and leaned back on her pillow. "I don't know," she said, looking up at the ceiling. She glanced over at her bandaged shoulder. "I can't believe I got shot," she sighed.

"I hear Twin Oaks is nice," Casey offered. "Wooded grounds. Crack staff. Good food."

"No way," Sarah replied. "I've been stuck in Agency facilities before. I can heal just as well at home, and go in for the P.T."

Casey shrugged. "If you think that's what's best," he said. "I'll let you know about Agent Forrest, once I run him." He glanced around the room. "Get you anything?"

Sarah huffed. "Out of here?"

Casey nodded knowingly. He had spent more than his fair share of time in hospitals, aid stations, and the like. "I'll talk to your doctor. Poa is it?"

"Mmm hmm," Sarah replied.

"Careful," Chuck cut in, feeling left out of the conversation. "The way she was looking at you, she might just keep _you_ here for 'observation.'"

Casey snorted, but otherwise ignored Chuck. He'd found that was the best way to keep Bartowski from running off at the mouth. "I'll check back by when I've got something," he said to Sarah. He turned and strode out of the room. Casey stepped outside the room and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes briefly. He slammed the side of his fist into the wall, and then, ignoring the startled look from a passing aide, he walked quickly to the nurses' station and demanded to see Sarah's doctor.

Once the door closed, Chuck leaned close to Sarah. "I don't want another handler," Chuck said. "I want you, Sarah."

Sarah resisted the urge to reach up and run her fingers through his brown curls. "Chuck, I can't protect you right now. I'm… I'm sure this is just temporary. I'll get cleared for duty and things can go back…" She sighed. "Well, actually, things can't go back to the way they were."

She licked her lips and, without thinking, reached out and laid her hand on top of his.

She took a deep breath before continuing. "Chuck, I'm your handler. You're my asset. It's my job to protect you, not the other way around."

"But Sarah," Chuck interrupted.

"Chuck, please," Sarah continued. "We have to talk about this. I have to… to make you understand." She paused and took another deep breath. "Three times… _three times_ since this crazy al Fayed mission started you've risked yourself to save me. I…" She paused, searching for the right words.

"I don't think the third time counts," Chuck said, trying desperately to lighten the mood. "You had already activated the jammer…"

"Chuck," Sarah cut him off. This was hard enough without Chuck turning on the Bartowski charm. She patted his hand and continued. "First, thank you. Thank you for saving my life…" She managed a small smile. "At least twice."

Chuck shook his head. "You don't have to thank me. You've done it a hundred times for me. And…"

"Chuck, please," Sarah said, squeezing his hand. "This is…" She almost said, 'This is hard enough as it is,' but that would almost be an admission of her feelings. She wasn't good with expressing her feelings. At least, not when he was awake. She started over. "Please, just let me speak."

She licked her lips and continued. "Chuck, it's my job to protect you. You're the Intersect. You are incredibly important to this country." '_And to me_,' she added silently. "Nothing can happen to… to the Intersect. You have to be protected. And I… we… can't protect you if you're doing crazy things like running into burning buildings and jumping terrorists."

The look in his eyes was killing her. Those warm, trusting, kind eyes. Eyes that sucked you in and made you want to…

She gave her head a little shake to clear it. "Chuck, you're not an agent. I don't want you to be an agent. That would… That would be bad. For you." '_For us_,' she added in her heart. "Please. You have to promise me… Promise me that you'll stop this… Stop this trying to protect me."

Chuck blinked and licked his lips. "I can't," he said hoarsely. "I can't because…" He paused. He couldn't say it. Not now. Not like this.

Other than the occasional little white lie to save someone's feelings, he hardly ever lied before. But since he had become the Intersect, lying had become part of his life. Something he did more and more to protect himself and, more importantly, to protect the people he cared about.

It scared him, sometimes, how easy it was becoming. At first, each lie had torn out a little piece of his soul. The lies to Ellie, to Morgan, to Devon. But now… Now the lies, the important lies, came as easy as breathing. Someday, he knew, it would all catch up with him. Someday he would have to pay the piper. But not today. Today, he would lie again to protect the person he had come to care about the most…

"You know me, Sarah," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "You know how I am. I can't just stand on the sidelines. If it was Ellie, or Morgan… Okay, bad examples… If it were Casey. Or even Jeff, or Lester or Big Mike… Do you think I could just stand there and do nothing? I couldn't live with myself if something happened..." '_to you_,' he thought, but he said, "…to someone else when I could have done something? I'm just not built that way, Sarah."

Sarah took a ragged breath and squeezed his hand again. "And you keep telling me that you're not a hero," she said.

Chuck shook his head. "I'm not."

"How many times do you have to be a hero before you realize that you are?" she asked. She sighed and leaned back on her pillow, suddenly exhausted.

Chuck asked anxiously, "Are you okay? Do I need to get Doctor Poa?"

Sarah shook her head. "No. No, I'm fine," she said. "I'm just tired. We can talk more about this later."

Chuck nodded. "I'll go," he said, starting to stand.

Sarah laid her hand back over his. "No," she said softly. "You can stay. It's all right. In fact…" She paused. She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Chuck."

He looked confused. "For what?" he asked.

Sarah closed her eyes. "For being you," she whispered.


	23. Motherly Advice

Thanks to my editors, **Poa** and **MySoapBox**, for their assistance with this chapter. You rock, ladies!

See? As promised, this chapter is a little longer.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 23

Motherly Advice

The damned drugs were wearing off. While Sarah didn't usually like taking drugs of any kind, even aspirin, for the same reason she didn't usually drink more than a single glass of wine – she dreaded any loss of control – she had to admit that whatever magic elixir had been dripping out of that now-empty bag hanging next to the saline drip had been wonderful. Not only had it eased the pain of her wounded shoulder and masked the various aches and pains that invariably sprouted up after a little toe-to-toe with a bad guy, it had also introduced a mild state of blissful detachment. Detachment that had made it easier not to worry about Chuck, her 'benching' by Beckman, Chuck, the new agent assigned to Team Bartowski, Chuck, recovering fully from her injury… oh, and Chuck.

She looked over at his 'perch' – the chair beside her bed, now vacant. It had take herculean effort to get him to leave, even temporarily. The usual tricks – wheedling, cajoling, batting her eyelashes and even, when all else failed, a resort to logic – fell flat. Finally, she had lied and said that he was getting a little ripe and, dammit, he needed to go shower, change and get a little real sleep. Although she knew with the same certainty as the rising sun that he would take a quick bath or shower – if he could manage it – throw on some clean clothes, and be back by her side as soon as humanly possible.

At the thought of Chuck bathing, the edges of her mouth curled up ever-so-slightly and she even blushed a little. She really, really wished she could be there to give him another bath. His nervousness as he bathed in his underwear had been so cute. Unconsciously, her hand drifted over to where his head had been resting on her blankets. Was it her imagination, or were the blankets there still a little warmer than the rest?

"Well, whatever you are thinking of, it is certainly a pleasant memory."

Sarah started and looked up quickly, her hand jerking almost involuntarily toward her leg where she normally would have kept her knives.

But seeing the twinkling blue eyes and mischievous grin of Rachel Schwartz, she relaxed.

"I am sorry, child," Rachel said as she closed the door to the room. "It was not my purpose to startle you." She cocked her head a little to the side and put her hands on her hips. "Now, what have you done to yourself?"

Rachel stepped closer to the bed and frowned, but her eyes still twinkled. She reached down and pushed Sarah forward a bit so she could pull up her pillow and fluff it a bit, and then put a hand on Sarah's uninjured shoulder to guide her gently back.

"Hello, Rachel," Sarah said, unable to keep from smiling.

Rachel gently stroked Sarah's hair, and Sarah closed her eyes briefly and allowed herself the luxury of remembering being a little girl and having her hair stroked like that. She opened her eyes and half-expected to see her mother's beautiful face, her golden hair haloed by the light, sitting on the edge of her bed. At least if her mother couldn't be here, Rachel was a welcome substitute.

"So you were thinking of your young man just now, hmm?" Rachel asked.

Sarah tried hard not to blush… well, blush any more than she must have already been. "No," Sarah said, only half-lying. "I was thinking of my mother."

Rachel nodded knowingly. "So," she said, leaning over to look at Sarah's injured shoulder. "You leave Ari and me and what do you do? You get yourself shot." The smile faded from her face and her eyes seemed to grow cold. "Was it al Fayed? Did that bastard shoot you?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, one of his underlings. I was busy with one of the others and he got in a lucky shot. I was just fortunate that Chuck…" Her voice trailed off. As much as she loved Rachel, she really shouldn't be sharing operational details with her.

"Chuck," Rachel said. "That is that handsome agent Carmichael, is it not?" Her smiled returned, although it barely reached her eyes. "You know," she teased, "if I did not have my Ari and if I was twenty years younger…"

"Rachel!" Sarah laughed.

"He is in love with you, that one," Rachel said, stroking Sarah's hair again. "You can see it in his eyes. But you already know that. I can see it in your eyes as well."

"Rachel!" Sarah gasped. "Chuck… Agent Carmichael… He's a partner. I can't get involved with my partner."

"Like that Bryce fellow?" Rachel chided. "He was your partner."

Sarah sat up quickly and stared, open-mouthed, at Rachel. "How do you know about Bryce?" she asked.

Rachel put a hand on Sarah's shoulder and gently pressed her back to the pillow. "My Ari is Mossad," Rachel said. "Do you not think that I have been having him keep an eye on you, my daughter, all these years? Did you think that I could let a girl who shared my home just go off into _that_ world without keeping, how do you say, tabs on you?"

"You've been spying on me?" Sarah asked, shocked.

"Not spying. I am no longer a spy, my dear. I have been 'mothering you from a distance.' But you are changing the subject. We were talking about your young man. He seems very different, for an operative."

"He is not 'my young man'," Sarah protested. "We are… boyfriend and girlfriend is just a cover."

But Rachel, noting the lack of conviction in her voice, smiled and brushed a stray hair back behind Sarah's ear. "You are still young," Rachel said. Then she shook her head, sadly. "But this life is no life for you." Sarah started to sit up and opened her mouth to protest, but Rachel held up a hand to silence her. "Oh, you are very good at… at all this. One of the best; that is certain. But it is an empty life, Sarah. It drains you dry and gives nothing back. It takes and takes and takes, until you are all used up inside. And then… then you look back and wish…" Her voice trailed off.

"But you are happy," Sarah said. "You have Ari, and your sons."

"Yes, I escaped," Rachel said. "Not soon enough, but I escaped. Thank God…" she gave a little bow of her head, "…that I had Ari and I escaped that life. But not soon enough. Not soon enough."

There was something about her tone, Sarah thought. Something about her words. "Rachel," Sarah ventured. "When we were in the Buy More and Abdul al Fayed came in, he looked at me…" She paused, searching for the right words. "Rachel, the way he looked at me…" She gave a little shiver.

It must be the drugs, she thought. They're messing with my control. I'm not like this.

Sarah looked up into Rachel's haunted eyes. Rachel was remembering. Remembering, Sarah was sure, things best left forgotten.

Rachel gave her head a little shake and looked down at Sarah. "You could be my daughter," Rachel said softly. "There is a great resemblance. The blue eyes, the blonde hair – although mine comes from a bottle now. My people were from Poland, as were yours."

Sarah laid a hand on Rachel's, a silent plea for her to continue.

"I told you before that al Fayed I were…" She sighed. "Moses used me. A honey trap for al Fayed. I was his mistress for too long. Much too long. I did my job, at least that part of my job, well. al Fayed offered to make me his wife. At least," she gave a little shrug, "one of his wives. Sarah, when he looks at you, Abdul is no doubt seeing me. The woman he loved - or at least, said that he loved. The woman that betrayed him."

Rachel took a deep breath and clenched and unclenched her fists. Sarah could see that the 'honey trap' had taken a deep and lasting toll on Rachel. More than that, it had taken a part of her soul. Unfortunately, Sarah understood only too well what Rachel had been through. Well, perhaps not everything. She had never gone quite so deep as had Rachel. But the honey trap was something with which she was well acquainted.

"Sarah, you must be careful," Rachel continued. "I do not think that al Fayed knows of our connection, but if he did…" She let out a breath and shivered. "al Fayed is ruthless. One of the coldest, most dangerous men I have ever known. And now he has all the more reason to hate you. You and all your team."

Rachel shook her head and propped herself on the edge of Sarah's bed and brushed her hand at the air, as if shooing away bad memories. "But enough of that. Tell me about this young man of yours."

"I told you, Rachel, he is not 'my young man.'"

"You know," Rachel said. "You used to be such a good liar. I wonder if it is the drugs or being in love that has eroded your skill in that area."

"Rachel!"

Rachel waved a hand. "Oh, my sweet Sarah, I could always read you like a rabbi reads the Torah. I see it in your eyes when you are with him. And I see it in his when he looks at you. At least I waited until he left to come in so that I would not embarrass you."

"Wouldn't embarrass me?" Sarah smirked.

"Meh! Fine. Would not embarrass you in front of him."

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"So," Rachel said. "Tell me about him."

"Rachel," Sarah said. "I really don't think…"

"Now, Sarah, you know I'm not leaving until I know everything, so you can do this the easy way. Or…"

"Rachel…" Sarah pleaded.

"Fine. Charles Irving Bartowski," Rachel said. Sarah gave her a look. "What? Moses asked for the file, they sent Ari a copy, and I might have taken a little peek."

"Mossad really has a file on him?" Sarah asked. "Why?"

"Mossad knows that Fulcrum lost a number of agents in connection with the Burbank Buy More, so Mossad now has a file on everyone connected with that store. They are especially concerned since Buy More was connected to Mossad, in a way, through Moses Finkelstein (etc.) and wanted to make sure this wasn't a rogue Mossad operation."

Sarah shook her head. "How much did Mossad tell Fulcrum?"

"Dear, I am not on the inside anymore. I cannot say. But my guess is… very little. Ari tells me that Mossad does not trust Fulcrum and, as you know, it is always good to hold back some information so you can bargain with it later. But you are trying to change the subject again, dear. We were speaking of your young…"

"He is _not_ my _young man_," Sarah interrupted.

"So his sister is a doctor," Rachel continued, ignoring Sarah's protests. "And he has a degree from Stanford. A good school. I would say something about him working at a Buy More, but that is obviously just his cover. So how did you meet? Was it a result of this assignment, or did you meet before?"

"I am not going to dignify this whole interrogation," Sarah said, turning her head away from Rachel.

"Now, now, dear. No need to pout. So I am guessing that you met on this assignment, since you were with that Bryce fellow before now. Pity about him. I was sorry to hear that he died, for your sake. Regardless, I never thought he was the man for you."

"_Rachel_…" Sarah pleaded. She turned and looked up at the older woman, who was smiling beatifically down at her.

"All you have to do is answer a few questions and I'll stop," Rachel said.

"You know," Sarah sighed. "Mossad really missed out when you retired from the business. They should have made you an interrogator."

Rachel just smiled.

"Yes," Sarah said. "We met on the assignment. We were… tracking down some leaked information. I didn't know Chuck was an agent at the time. I tried to set him up, thinking he was the mole, but we were able to prove it was someone else. Chuck and Casey and I worked well together, so they kept us as a team." 'The best lies are built around the truth,' Sarah thought. 'Keep it simple. Rachel can smell lies like a bloodhound. And fear. She always could smell fear. And I thought Ellie's questions about Chuck and me were bad.'

"So when did you fall in love with him?" Rachel asked. "Was it love at first sight? You know I'm an old romantic. Tell me it was love at first sight. Although now that I think about him, he is cute, but you never were into cute. You always went for the pretty boys. Like that Bryce."

"Bryce was not a pretty-boy!" Sarah protested.

"Feh, of course he was," Rachel insisted. "Like Yakov at the Academy, who you mooned over like a sick puppy."

"_I did no such thing_!" Sarah exploded.

"Fine, fine, you appreciated his deep soulful qualities and the fact that he looked like Brad Pitt in that awful movie _Troy_ had nothing to do with it."

"I am not talking to you, Rachel."

Rachel burst out laughing and Sarah couldn't help but join in.

"He was really 'hot', as you say," Rachel said.

"Well, _I_ don't say that. But, yeah, he was," Sarah agreed.

Rachel reached up to stroke Sarah's hair again, her face softening into that motherly look that had always managed to melt Sarah's heart. "So does he make you happy, this Chuck?" Rachel asked. "Or at least, could he make you happy if you let him?"

Sarah's eyes filled with tears. 'Damn drugs,' she thought. 'It's the drugs that are making me so emotional.' She took a deep breath, looked into Rachel's eyes, and nodded.

Rachel beamed and folded Sarah in her arms. "Oh, my child. I so want you to be happy."

Sarah buried her face in Rachel's shoulder. Rachel really had been like a mother to her when she was in Israel, at the Mossad training school. And she had missed having someone to mother her, someone she could talk to.

After a few minutes, Rachel pulled away a little and smiled at Sarah. "He does love you, doesn't he?"

Sarah nodded, and couldn't help but smiling at the thought of Chuck's admission while he thought she was asleep.

"And you love him, too," Rachel said. It wasn't a question.

Sarah's eyes filled again with tears and she bit her bottom lip. But she gave her head a barely perceptible nod, and then swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Have you told him?" Rachel asked.

Sarah took a deep breath. "I can't," she said.

"Nonsense!" Rachel insisted.

"No, Rachel. We're… You see, Chuck and me… It's complicated."

"Love always is, dear."

"But we can't be together. It… I… It's my job to protect him. I can't do that if… You see…" She sighed. "One time, Chuck was being held hostage. I had the shot, but I couldn't take it. I… With Bryce, it had been easy. I took the shot. But with Chuck…" She shook her head helplessly.

"You loved him and you could not bear to possibly hurt him."

Another barely perceptible nod.

"Oh, child," Rachel said, pulling Sarah to her again. "You do not understand love at all, do you?"

Sarah pulled away a little and frowned, but Rachel pulled her close again.

"Why do you think I am here?" Rachel asked. "I love my Ari, and he needed my help. For him, for my sons… If anyone threatens them, there is no one… _no one_ more fierce than a mother protecting her children or a woman protecting the man she loves. Love makes you better at protecting them, not worse. An agent might hesitate in that split second between life and death." She shook her head. "But if you love someone, sacrifice… the willingness to sacrifice yourself becomes second nature."

She leaned back to look in Sarah's eyes, and to gently brush the tears from her cheeks. "And this Chuck has already shown that, has he not? I have heard the stories floating here around the hospital. He has been willing to sacrifice himself for you, because he loves you."

Sarah swallowed hard. "But that's just it, Rachel. He's too valuable. He can't sacrifice himself for me."

Rachel shook her head. "I feel the same way about my Ari," Rachel said. "Or my children. They are too dear. But nothing would stop my Ari."

"No, no," Sarah insisted. "It's not like that. Well, it is, but it isn't. It's… I have to protect Chuck. It's my job. If he is in love with me, then he won't let me… He'll try…"

Sarah's shoulders fell. "I don't have a choice, do I?" she sighed. "I'm going to have to ask for reassignment."

Rachel shook her head sadly. "You really have not listened to a thing I have said, have you child?" She gently took Sarah's face between her hands. "You and your Chuck need to…"

Just then, the door opened and Chuck came in. His hair was still wet from his bath and his clothes were a little askew, as if he had rushed getting dressed. He started at seeing Rachel and Sarah huddled on the bed. "Oh," he said. "Am I interrupting something?"

"… talk." Rachel released Sarah's face from between her hands and turned to the startled Chuck. "Agent Carmichael. How nice to see you again. But if you could give Sarah and I a moment more?"

Chuck looked at Sarah and then gave a nervous nod. "Um, ah, sure. I'll just, ah, get some coffee from the, you know, cafeteria. Do you want anything?"

Sarah gave him a warm smile. "No thank you, Chuck," she said.

Chuck gave a little half-nod and said, "I'll, ah, come back in a bit."

"Thank you, dear," Rachel said with a warm smile of her own.

Chuck shuffled out the door.

Rachel turned back to Sarah, who she could see was trying to compose herself. Rachel narrowed her eyes and settled on the expression that she used when disciplining her errant boys. She leaned in and spoke in a low voice. "You listen to me, Rebecca. Yes, yes, you are Sarah now, but you will always be Rebecca to me. You listen to me well. They say that love conquers all. Well, that is so much nonsense."

She leaned back a little and allowed herself the barest ghost of a smile. "I will tell you the truth. Love is difficult and love is rare. When you find it, you must grab onto it with both of your hands." She lifted her hands and made two fists to emphasize her point.

Sarah started to speak, but Rachel stopped her with a look. "You are in love with this boy. He is in love with you. Embrace that, or you will both be miserable for the rest of your lives, wondering what might have been."

"But my life, my work," Sarah protested.

Rachel waved a hand, as if shooing away flies. "Your life is more than this. It is more than work. Your work will not keep your bed warm at night. Your work will not still the fires that burn in your heart."

Sarah lowered her head. "But Rachel, I'm afraid for him. It's… it's complicated. Chuck can't get out. And I'm afraid I can't protect him. Not as long as he…"

Rachel threw up her hands. "Becca, Becca, Becca. You have so much to learn. In so many ways, you are still a little girl with dreams of changing the world." She waved her hand again. "No, I am not being insulting. You have not the wisdom that comes with this grey hair." She reached up and lifted a lock of her own hair and then laughed. "Well, this hair that would be grey if not for my hairdresser."

Rachel's eyes softened and she laid a hand on Sarah's. "Love him. And let him love you. Together, you can face the world. And trust in God to protect you, because I will be praying for the both of you. You deserve happiness, my dear Sarah. And you will not be happy if you let this slip away."

She glanced over toward the door and Sarah followed her gaze. In the little strip of light at the bottom of the door, they could see a shadow moving back and forth, back and forth.

Rachel smiled. "See? He cannot keep away from you."

She stood and planted a gentle kiss on Sarah's forehead. "Ask yourself this, my child, if you truly love him and want him to be safe. If you leave, will anyone be able to protect him as well as can you? And if you stay, will you not each move heaven and earth to keep the other from harm?"

Involuntarily, Sarah nodded.

"And that is not even the most important thing," Rachel continued. "You _need_ each other. Without love, without someone to ground you in what is real… How can I put this?" She ran the tips of her fingers back and forth across her forehead, thinking. "There are many kinds of death. Physical death is not the worst. If you and your Chuck do not have someone, do not have each other, then you and he will die just as surely as if someone put a bullet in your head. You know how this life eats people alive from the inside out. _That_ is what you can save him from… And how he can save you as well."

Rachel glanced over at the door, where the pacing continued. "I have tortured you and him long enough. They are releasing Ari today, and I am taking him home. Moses and Red Jihad and that bastard al Fayed be damned."

There were tears in Sarah's eyes as she looked up at Rachel. "I will miss you, Rachel."

Rachel kissed Sarah again and wiped her own eyes. "Pah! You will be happy to get rid of a meddling old woman." They embraced and Rachel hurried toward the door. She flung it open, revealing a startled Chuck on the other side, pacing, a Styrofoam cup in each hand.

Rachel grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug. Chuck juggled the cups to keep from pouring hot liquid down her back. Her voice hissed in his ear. "You take care of my Rebecca, you hear?"

Chuck could do no more than nod mutely as Rachel hurried away.

After watching her until she disappeared around the corner, Chuck poked his head in Sarah's door. "Okay if I come in?" he asked.

Sarah nodded, and smiled, although he noted that her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

"Non-fat, extra foam, extra-shot mocha," he said, holding up a cup.

"Really? They have _that_ in the cafeteria?" she asked.

Chuck smiled. "No, but I snuck into the doctor's lounge and used their automatic espresso machine. A little trick I learned from Ellie."

"C'mere," she said. He cautiously approached the bed. She took the cups from his hands and set them on the small table on the other side of her bed. He frowned in confusion.

"There's something Rachel said that I needed to do," she said.

"What's that?" he asked.

"This," she lied. She pulled him close and brushed her lips gently against his.

He pulled back, startled. "But, you've always said… I mean, I'm an asset… That is, I…"

"For now," she said softly, "I'm benched. So you're not my asset."

His eyes went wide. "And you're not my handler," he gasped.

She nodded, and kissed him again.

The door banged open and Casey came in, trailed by a tall blonde in an Orange Orange uniform. "Oh, crap," Casey muttered.


	24. If a Tree Falls in the Forrest

I know it's been awhile since the last update and this is a rather short chapter, but hey, you get what you pay for. Just kidding. Your reviews and comments, and all the friends I have made here at FF are payment enough.

Thanks again to Doctor **Poa** for her editing and proofreading work. **Poa** is hard at work on her chapter for the Authors Intersect Round Robin Chapter. If you haven't read the SI RR story, check it out. Some really great authors - and me - are making it a real labor of love.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 24

If a Tree Falls in the Forrest…

Chuck and Sarah pulled quickly apart. In his haste to stand, Chuck tripped over his own feet, fell off the bed, and went sprawling across the floor at the side of the bed. Sarah gasped and leaned over the side of the bed as best she could without pulling out her I.V. "Are you all right?" she gasped, trying hard (and not entirely successfully) not to laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," Chuck moaned. "Nothing injured but my pride."

The tall blonde in the Orange Orange uniform looked down at Chuck, as if examining a bug. "I can see why he needs protecting," she said. "But how do you protect him from himself?"

Casey looked down at Chuck and just shook his head.

Chuck scrambled to his feet. "I'm all right," he said. "I'm all right. I got it."

Sarah looked up at Casey, and blanched when she saw that he was looking at her with more of a scowl than usual. "Feeling faint, Walker?" he asked.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"I figured maybe you were having trouble breathing, and that's why Bartowski was giving you mouth to mouth."

Sarah glowered. Why did Casey have to pick that exact moment to come in? And with what was obviously a new agent, at that. Wait. A woman? Casey had said that her replacement was a man, hadn't he? An Alex Forrest?

The woman elbowed her way past Casey and stood with her feet spaced precisely shoulder-width apart. "I'm Agent Alex Forrest. I have been designated by General Beckman as your replacement, Agent Walker. You are relieved."

"Sarah," Chuck whined.

Sarah looked up at Agent Forrest and immediately decided she didn't like the tall, blonde, very attractive agent. First was her attitude. She looked positively smug standing there, telling Sarah she was taking over _her_ assignment. And make no mistake about it, Chuck was her assignment. If it wasn't for her, the NSA would have simply tossed him in a padded cell in an underground bunker two years ago. She was the one who had convinced Casey and, through Casey, the NSA, that Chuck could be a valuable asset in the field.

Second, as hard as it was to admit it, she was beautiful. Perhaps as attractive as Sarah herself. 'Oh God,' Sarah thought. 'Given what I've been through, I probably look like hell. And here she is, standing there with her perfect hair and perfect makeup and perfect figure...' Suddenly, Sarah felt like she was back in high school with her braces and her ratty hair and baggy clothes, looking at Heather Chandler in her cheerleading uniform with her perfect hair and perfect teeth and perfect everything.

At least she wasn't a brunette. Somehow, after Lou and Jill, Sarah found brunettes rather intimidating.

Sarah composed herself and looked at Casey. "So what's the protocol?" Sarah asked. "How are we going to make the _temporary _transition?" She took a breath to force herself to keep her voice even. "Obviously, we need to do it in a way that doesn't compromise Chuck's cover with his friends and his family." 'In other words,' she thought. 'Chuck's not getting a new girlfriend, Forrest, so you can keep your hands off of him.'

"With all due respect to your... position," Forrest said, "you've been relieved, Agent Walker. _I_ will take care of managing the transition in my own way. Project Bartowski is on a need to know basis and you no longer need to know."

Sarah gritted her teeth and looked over at Casey, waiting for him to shoot this bitch down. But he didn't. He just stood there. Her partner for two years, and he just stood there while Forrest tossed her aside like yesterday's newspaper.

To her surprise, it was Chuck who took a step forward, threw his chest out in what he no doubt viewed as striking a brave pose, and said, "You can't talk to Sarah... Agent Walker that way. She's still a part of this team."

Forrest turned her head slowly and menacingly toward Chuck, and he took a half-step back. "No, she's not."

Chuck licked his lips and cleared his throat, but his voice still cracked when he retorted, "Yes, she is."

Forrest took a step forward. Standing at five foot ten, she was half a foot shorter than Chuck, but somehow she seemed to tower over him. "Beckman's orders," she said. "Walker's been benched." She shook her head and looked over her shoulder at Casey. "Why am I arguing with an asset?" she asked rhetorically. She turned back to Chuck. "Assets, like children, are to be seen and not heard."

Chuck sputtered. "I will have you know, I am a valuable member of this team. And I will not..."

"Chuck," Sarah said, reaching out and touching his arm. "Could you give Agent Forrest and me a moment alone?"

Chuck turned and looked at Sarah and all the fight seemed to drain out of him. "Yeah, um, sure. I guess so."

Sarah looked over at Casey. "Casey," she said coldly. "A minute?"

Casey grunted, turned and walked out of the room.

Chuck looked at Sarah, then over at Forrest, then back at Sarah. "It'll be okay, Chuck," she said softly. "Agent Forrest and I just need to discuss a couple things, agent to agent."

Chuck hesitated and then nodded. For a moment, Sarah was afraid he was going to lean over and kiss her. The Sarah part of her wished he would, but the Agent Walker part of her was silently hissing, 'Just go, Chuck. This isn't the time.'

"I'll be right outside if you need me," Chuck said. Then he turned and marched out, glaring at Forrest as he passed her with all the believability of a mouse glaring at a cat.

Forrest crossed her arms and watched him go. As soon as the door closed, she turned back to Sarah and said in a condescending tone, "We have nothing to discuss, Agent Walker. General Beckman made it clear that you are relieved and I am taking over this assignment."

Summoning all her spy skills, Sarah smiled sweetly at Forrest. "I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot," Sarah said. "First, welcome to Los Angeles. Where was your last assignment?"

Forrest's tone was clipped, perfunctory. "That's classified."

Sarah took a breath and, with a great expenditure of willpower, maintained her smile. "Of course," she said. "But listen. You need to understand. This assignment is nothing like any assignment you've ever had before. Chuck isn't a spy. He has no training and, well, he doesn't think or act like a spy."

"Well, that's no doubt why he's classified as an asset and not an agent," Forrest said. "Do you have a point, Agent Walker?"

Sarah sighed. "My point is, Chuck is a very valuable asset, but he has to be handled with kid gloves."

"So is that what you were doing when I came in?" Forrest asked.

Sarah grimaced. "That was... it's complicated."

"Well, then it's a good thing I'm here so I can uncomplicate things," Forrest said. "Fraternization between agents and assets is highly inappropriate. Perhaps if the kid gloves had come off and Bartowski had been treated more like an asset, then you wouldn't be lying in that hospital bed, several retail stores wouldn't be smoking ruins, and al Fayed wouldn't have gotten away."

Sarah winced. As much as she hated to admit it, part of her agreed with Forrest. Maybe if she had been more professional with Chuck from the beginning, things wouldn't have gotten out of hand.

Forrest took a couple steps closer to Sarah's bed and leaned in so that she towered over the injured agent. "Let me make myself clear," Forrest said. "Bartowski is now my asset. You've been relieved from the case and, obviously, not a moment too soon. You are to have no further contact with my asset of any kind. Any further contact between you and the asset will be reported to General Beckman as interference in an ongoing operation, subjecting you to charges. Do we understand each other?"

Sarah clenched her fists. "You can't do that."

"I most certainly can. As a matter of fact, I intend to contact General Beckman immediately and recommend that you be permanently removed from this assignment and shipped back to Langley for a refresher course in proper asset/handler relations."

With that, Forrest spun on her heel and strode out of the room.

Sarah gritted her teeth and wished she had her knives.

***

In the hallway outside the room, Chuck was pacing back and forth in front of Sarah's door. Casey stood to the side, armed folded across his chest, staring at the wall.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Chuck asked.

"Whatever it is, it's none of your business, Bartowski," Casey said.

Chuck stopped pacing and whirled to face Casey. "None of my business?" he gasped.

"That's right, Bartowski, none of your business. Let the adults take care of things."

Chuck's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. "Listen, Casey. I don't need..."

The door to Sarah's room burst open and Forrest came storming out, her face set, her stride purposeful. She grabbed Chuck's arm without breaking stride. "Come on," she said. "We're leaving."

Much to her surprise, Chuck didn't move. In fact, it was Forrest who was almost yanked off her feet when he didn't. Whipsawing backwards, Forrest glared at Chuck. "I said come on," she hissed.

Chuck set his feet and pulled his arm from her grip. "No. I'm staying with Sarah."

"Agent Walker is off this mission. I'm in charge now," Forrest said, reaching for Chuck's arm again.

Off to the side, Casey's eyes narrowed and a low growl sounded deep in his throat.

"I don't care," Chuck said. "Sarah's hurt and I'm staying."

"So help me, I will tranq you, drag you back to base, and lock you in a cell," Forrest said, pulling on Chuck's arm.

"Oh yeah?" Chuck retorted. Then flinched. 'Brilliant comeback, Bartowski,' he thought. He tried to pull his arm away again, but Forrest's grip was like iron. Chuck shook his arm, but Forrest was persistent.

"You're coming with me," she said.

"No, I'm not," Chuck said, glaring at her.

They both turned in shock when a vise-like hand gripped Forrest's wrist and Chuck's arm. Both turned to see Casey's scowling face. "How about we take this somewhere more private?" he asked.

"Fine," Forrest said, pulling her arm quickly away from Casey.

"No," Chuck said.

Casey narrowed his eyes and he took a slow, measured breath. "So help me, Bartowski, I will end you," he said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, yeah," Chuck said nervously. "That will go over real big with Beckman. Killing the guy you're supposed to be protecting."

"You don't think I can make it look like an accident?"

"No... Well, yeah, maybe. But you won't." Chuck didn't sound entirely convinced, but he continued to stand his ground. He gave a little shiver, then straightened up to his full height so that he was eye to eye with Casey. "I... am... not... leaving... Sarah." He jerked his arm so violently that he succeeded in breaking Casey's grip.

Casey was so stunned, that he didn't stop Chuck when he strode back into Sarah's room.

"Looks like I got here just in time," Forrest said, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up," Casey said before turning and striding down the hallway.


	25. Seeing the Trees for the Forrest

Thanks, as usual, to my editor and proofreader, **Poa**.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 25

Seeing the Trees for the Forrest

Sarah looked up when Chuck stomped into the room. He was breathing hard and the little vein on the side of his neck was throbbing. She had heard a commotion out in the hall, but she couldn't make out the words. "What's going on?" she asked.

Chuck shook his head. His words were forced out between his clenched teeth. "I don't care what Beckman says, I'm not going to work with that woman."

"You mean Agent Forrest," Sarah said.

"More like Agent Cylon." Noticing Sarah's confused expression, Chuck said, "Battlestar Galactica? Skin jobs? Look human but aren't?"

Sarah shrugged.

"You watched it with Morgan and me a couple times," Chuck protested.

"To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention," Sarah admitted. "I was writing mission reports in my head."

Chuck raised his eyebrows and Sarah laughed. She patted the bed next to her. Grinning, Chuck came over and sat down on the bed. Sarah laid her hand over his. Her smile faded and she looked concerned. "Chuck, don't rock the boat on this one. I'm sure Agent Forrest is a good agent and she'll be able to protect you since I can't."

"Sarah, I…"

Sarah laid a finger over Chuck's lips. "For me?" she asked. "Please?"

All the fight went out of Chuck. His shoulders slumped and he gave her an expression that managed to be both a pout and a grin at the same time.

"Now, where were we?" she asked, slipping her hand behind his neck and pulling him closer.

Their lips had just touched when there was a knock at the door. They jerked apart. "Oh, for crying out loud," Sarah muttered softly. Chuck leapt to his feet and they both turned toward the door.

Before either could respond to the knock, the door was flung open. There was no mistaking the dark green suit, white shirt and yellow tie: Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. He took a step into the room and paused, chin up and cocked slightly to the side, like an actor milking his entrance for applause.

After a suitable pause, he looked beneficently at Chuck and Sarah and smiled, baring his pearly white teeth. "Charles! Agent Walker! I am so pleased that you both survived your encounter with my nemesis."

He held up a hand and a huge flower arrangement with legs staggered into the room. Chuck couldn't help noticing that they were very shapely legs.

"Ah, Amelia, you can put it…" he paused and looked around the room, "… over there." Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s personal assistant/bodyguard struggled over to where her employer had indicated and set down the flowers.

Moses walked over to the side of the bed opposite Chuck and lifted Sarah's hand to his lips. His lips were cold on her skin, quite the contrast to the warmth of Chuck's kiss. "I was _so_ distressed to learn that you had been injured, my dear," Moses Finkelstein (etc.) said. "It is not serious, I trust? You will be back working with your partner, _Agent Carmichael_, soon?"

Sarah extricated her hand from his clammy grasp. "How did you get in here?" she asked. "This area is restricted. For that matter, how did you find out I was here?"

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) waved a hand, as if brushing off the query. "Oh, I have my ways. As to your injury, I watched the whole thing on the video feed from the Buy More." He turned to Chuck. "Brilliant, my boy, the way you pretended to cower in fear just before you pounced on that terrorist. Misdirection, that's the key. I must say, you do the bumbling Jerry Lewis routine to perfection. Why, I remember an agent I had working under me when I was in Mossad who…"

"_Mr. Finkelstein_," Sarah interrupted. "As much as I appreciate the visit… and the flowers… I am a little fatigued, so if you don't mind?"

"Oh, of course, of course," Moses Finkelstein (etc.) said. "I should have realized. My apologies." He gave her a slight bow, an enigmatic smile peeking through the façade of concern. He walked quickly around the bed and clamped a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Come, Charles, let's allow Agent Walker her rest, shall we? There's something I want to discuss with you."

"But… I…" Chuck tried to protest, but Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s grip was like iron and he used it to maneuver Chuck out the door.

Sarah frowned after them, and then noticed that Amelia was still standing over by the flowers. Sarah started. Moses Finkelstein (etc.) had so dominated the room, she had forgotten Amelia was there.

The personal assistant/bodyguard gave her a slight nod. But Sarah recognized that look. That slightly smug expression that said, 'If it had been me, I wouldn't have gotten shot.' "I am sorry for your injuries," Amelia said. She cocked her head slightly to one side. "Does this mean that you will be removed from Mister Bartowski's team?"

"No," Sarah answered, a little too quickly.

One corner of Amelia's mouth twitched up ever so slightly. Anyone but a trained agent might have missed it. A trained agent… or a jealous girlfriend? Sarah suppressed a slight shudder at this last thought.

"Take care, Miss Walker," Amelia said, and then turned and walked out of the room.

Sarah just managed to keep from throwing her water glass at the closing door.

***

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) led Chuck down the hallway.

"Um, sir?" Chuck said. "I was… ah hem… that is, I was tasked with keeping an eye on Agent Walker."

Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s hand did not leave Chuck's shoulder. "She's in a secure facility, Charles. I'm sure she'll be fine for awhile. We have something to discuss, and I would feel more… comfortable discussing it in a secure location."

"But you just said this was a secure location," Chuck said.

Moses patted him twice on the shoulder, then gripped him again and continued to steer him toward the elevator. "There is secure, my boy, and secure. I would rather… Well, let's just say I want to have a _private_ conversation."

Chuck looked nervously over at Moses, but swallowed and allowed himself to be led out.

Amelia Banks trailed along behind. Her normal bodyguard scowl replaced with a smirk.

***

Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s limousine was parked on an empty floor of the parking garage. The driver Chuck recognized from his trip to Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s office – the one Chuck had called 'Lurch' but who Chuck remembered was named Davis - was standing by the limo's back door. Lurch opened the door to the limousine and Moses Finkelstein (etc.) motioned for Chuck to climb in. Chuck looked around nervously, and then slipped inside. He slid over to the far side, all the way up against the other door. Moses Finkelstein (etc.) entered next and took the seat next to Chuck. Amelia entered last and took the front seat, with her back to the driver and facing Chuck and Moses. She slowly crossed her long, shapely legs and placed her hands primly in her lap.

Lurch shut the door and stood with his back to the car.

Chuck swallowed again.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) leaned forward and opened a small mini-bar on the side of the large passenger compartment. "A drink?" he asked.

Chuck shook his head. With all that had been going on, he wasn't even sure what time it was. Awesome's frat bros might have the attitude that 'the sun was always over the yardarm somewhere,' Chuck didn't like to drink before noon, at the earlier. Besides, as wrung out as he was, alcohol might simply put him to sleep.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) picked up a Waterford tumbler, looked it over, put it back, and selected another. Picking up a decanter, he poured himself a generous splash of an amber liquid Chuck assumed was scotch. And probably really, really good scotch at that. Casey would be jealous.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) leaned back in the seat and turned to face Chuck. "Charles, I want to talk to you about my previous offer."

Chuck licked his lips. "Um, sir… I mean, Moses. I thought we, um, agreed that I needed to stay with my, uh, team… while we were in the middle of the al Fayed investigation?"

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) took a sip from the crystal tumbler and smiled. "Indeed we did. And now al Fayed is on the run."

Chuck straightened a little. "Sir, he might have suffered a minor setback, but this is a man who was willing to blow up your stores and kill dozens of innocent people just to get back at you after, what, thirty years? I don't think this mission is over by a long shot."

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) leaned forward and waved his hand around, sloshing the drink in the tumbler. "Nonsense, my boy. Terrorists are cowards. He'll hole up for awhile. Maybe for years. Let someone else run him to ground."

"But sir…"

"Charles. It's time. Time to embrace your destiny. This little set-to at the Burbank store should convince you of that." He leaned back into the leather seat. "You love her, don't you?"

"What?" Chuck asked, surprised.

"Agent Walker. You're in love with her. It doesn't take a former spy to see all the signs."

Amelia took in a sharp breath.

Chuck shook his head vigorously. "Sarah… Agent Walker is my partner. It would be… We're not… Two agents are not allowed to be involved in that way."

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) chuckled. "Charles," he said, shaking his head. "Charles. Anti-fraternization policies are impossible to enforce and so are universally ignored. Besides, when one reaches a certain level, the rules no longer apply. But, no matter. It is simply one more reason why you should accept my offer."

"Sir, I really…"

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) held up a hand. "Wait, Charles, hear me out. You are in love with Agent Walker. You want to be with her. More importantly, you want her to be safe." He took a sip of his drink. "Ours… well, yours… is a dangerous profession. If you had been just a little bit slower, or if Hassan's aim had been a little better…"

He shook his head.

"Think of it, Charles," he continued. "You can take her away from all that. If you work with me, if you agree to become my apprentice, my heir, there will be nothing keeping you apart. You can take her away from this dangerous life. You can protect her."

Chuck leaned forward just a little, listening.

"What can the CIA offer you, offer her? Danger. Death? Is that what you want for her? Do you want to some day cradle her lifeless body in your arms, her blood staining your hands? Is that what you want?"

"No," Chuck whispered, not meaning to say it out loud. A small shiver ran down his back. The ex-spy was describing one of his recurring nightmares.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) drained his drink and set the empty tumbler back on the bar. Then he turned back to Chuck and smiled beneficently. "You are a patriot. I understand that. I do. You feel like you're making a difference. Like you're saving the world."

His smile faded and his eyes grew cold. "But in the end, what will it get you? A 'thank you', a pat on the back, and maybe, if you live long enough, a pension that is just enough to let you live in some dingy apartment all alone. All alone."

He wasn't even looking at Chuck anymore; he was just staring off into the distance.

"Because you have sacrificed everything… and everyone you loved… for your _country_. For some supposed higher calling. For something bigger than yourself." He practically spat the words.

Moses blinked several times and then turned back to Chuck. The 'kindly uncle' voice was back. "Charles, I need you, but more importantly, _you need me_. I can save you and, in turn, you can save her. Just like…"

He paused and took a deep breath.

"al Fayed is nothing. The loss of a few stores is nothing. But what I have built, this empire, is everything. And I am handing it all to you, my boy, on a silver platter. The CIA can't save her. But I can. You can. If you will let me help you. If _you_ will help _me_."

Chuck looked down at the bandages on his hands. Then he looked out the window of the limo toward the elevator, toward the hospital bed where Sarah Walker lay wounded. Where yes, dammit, the woman that he _loved_ lay wounded.

He looked back at Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, former Mossad analyst and former Mossad agent. Chuck held out his hand. His voice was firm. "Moses… you've got a deal."

The burning sensation in his bandaged hand was terrific as Moses grasped the proffered hand firmly with his own.


	26. The Path to the Dark Side

**Poa** did some serious editing on this chapter, and I think it's better for her work. Thank, P!

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 26

The Path to the Dark Side

"You did _what_?"

Chuck winced. Sarah's reaction was not exactly a surprise. Sitting there in the back of Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s limo, it had all seemed so clear, so logical. Now, sitting here on the bed in Sarah's hotel after bringing her home from the hospital while she looked at him like he had just grown horns and a tail, he was having trouble remembering the reasoned, logical argument he had so carefully prepared. In fact, he was having trouble forming any coherent thoughts at all.

"I did it for us," he managed to squeak.

Sarah jumped up off of the bed and started pacing the room. "For us? You did it for us? Don't you _think_ that maybe you _might_ have _discussed_ it with me before you made such a _stupid _decision for _us_?"

Chuck winced again. He had seen Sarah angry before. He remembered vividly her anger when he had failed to trust her during the whole Doctor Zarnow incident. She was usually cold and threatening when she was angry. But now, she was practically yelling. In fact, she was sounding an awful lot like Ellie when she was yelling at Devon. Or Anna when she was yelling at Morgan. She was sounding, Chuck realized, more like a pissed girlfriend than an angry secret agent. A small smile slowly spread across his face,

"What are you smiling at?"

The biting question snapped Chuck out of his reverie and he blinked up at her. She had one hand on her hip while the other rested in a sling. His smile grew wider. "I love you," he replied.

Sarah took a step back, as if his words had hit her like a physical force. For a moment, she simply stared at him, mouth agape. Then, realizing what she must look like, she clamped her mouth shut. "_What_?" she gasped.

Chuck looked down at the floor. "I know I should have told you before. The 'I love you' thing, that is. You see, I guess I've known for awhile now, but I just…"

"Chuck!"

Chuck looked up. Sarah walked over and sat down beside him on the bed. "What happened to the Chuck I used to know?" she asked.

Chuck frowned, confused.

"The Chuck who was scared of his own shadow. The Chuck who spends twenty minutes deciding which restaurant to go to. The Chuck who…" Her voice trailed off. 'The Chuck who worked at the Buy More for five years because he couldn't step up and take responsibility for his life,' she thought. But she couldn't bring herself to wound him with that -- the deadliest dart of all.

Chuck's smile grew wan. "I guess it's like I keep telling Morgan. You have to grow up sometime."

With great effort, Sarah tore herself away from his soulful gaze. She jumped back to her feet. She couldn't let him distract her like this. Didn't he realize how serious this was? "Chuck," she said, pacing again. "Don't you realize how serious this is?"

She stopped and looked at him. He looked like a scolded puppy. "Have you told Beckman? Have you told Casey?"

Chuck just shook his head.

"Well, at least there's that." She rubbed her forehead with her hand. "I need to think," she said. She looked at Chuck again. A small grin was creeping back onto his face as he looked at her. She couldn't _think_ while he was looking at her like that.

"I need to go for a walk," she snapped.

"Okay," Chuck said, standing.

"You stay here," she said, jabbing a finger at him. "I need… I need a minute to sort this out." What she really needed, she knew, was nice, long workout with the heavy bag and then maybe a nice long massage from those strong fingers… "Aaahhh!" she cried. She grabbed her purse and fled the room.

Chuck stood for a long moment, staring at the closed door. "That went well," he muttered.

***

Sarah wandered down the street, stumbling along wherever her feet took her. How had her life gotten so complicated? No, that was one question that was easy to answer. It required only a single word to sum it up: Chuck. The real question was how she had _allowed_ her life to become so complicated.

A smile slowly came to her lips. He loves me. He said it. Out loud. While he knew that I was awake. He really means it.

She shook her head. No. She couldn't go there. She was a trained agent. The CIA had given her meaning, purpose. It defined who she was.

But did it? Was that all she was, an agent? Wasn't she a woman first? A woman who dreamed of a home and family and house in the suburbs? A woman who was loved by…

"Aaaaahhhh," she cried again. Why did her thoughts keep going back to him? Why couldn't she get that warm smile, those deep brown eyes, those adorable curls out of her mind?

She shook her head, trying to clear it. She tried to focus on the dull ache in her shoulder. Use that. Use the pain to remember what was real. Danger. The Intersect. The CIA. It was her job to protect him and she had been failing miserably. Instead, he had been the one saving her, risking his own life to do it. Putting himself in danger to save the woman he loved…

She blew out a breath. Love. Did she even know what that was? She loved her father, after a fashion. At one time, she had thought she had loved Bryce. But now she knew that was a pale imitation. Bryce could never make her feel the way Chuck could. Could never make her as _frustrated_ as Chuck could.

The job. The job. Think about the job. The danger. What in the hell am I going to tell Casey? Tell Beckman? How am I going to tell them that Chuck is going to work for a ex-spy megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur? Hell, Moses Finkelstein (etc.) is more Bond villain than mentor. Beckman is going to climb through the monitor and strangle someone. She'll assign that bitch Forrest to Team Bartowski permanently and I'll be working the CIA duty station in lower Patagonia.

Still, at least someone is recognizing Chuck and his potential. Someone other than Ellie, that is. Ellie always knew. Funny that it took Moses Finkelstein (etc.) to make the rest of us all realize just what an asset Chuck is.

Asset. He's an asset. I'm a handler. God. Beckman is going to order Forrest to conduct a 49B. I really am going to be reassigned permanently.

Unless Chuck really does take the position with Moses Finkelstein (etc.). Maybe…

She heard a shoe scuff the pavement. She looked up and glanced around, suddenly realizing that she had wandered into one of the nearly empty industrial districts quite a ways from her hotel – windowless warehouses with widely spaced streetlights. She silently cursed her inattention. Between Chuck's twin bombshells and the pain meds, she was acting more like addled teenager than trained agent.

A homeless man in a shabby coat and filthy, ripped jeans was only a few feet away from her. He was staggering, obviously drunk. It was the sound of his shoe dragging against the pavement that had snapped her out of her reverie.

Sarah moved to her left to avoid him. He swayed and lurched toward her. She tried to move farther left to avoid him, but bumped up against the wall.

Suddenly, the drunk straightened and lunged for her. She tried to jump back. He was too quick. He grabbed her injured arm, sending a searing pain shooting through her shoulder. The pain was so intense she barely registered the prick to the side of her neck.

Then everything went black.


	27. Bring Me the Head of Moses Finkelstein

She's at it again. That **Poa**'s editing my literary dribblings. Thanks, P!

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 27

Bring Me the Head of Moses Finkelstein

"Dude! You're kidding me."

Chuck smiled. His life might be spiraling out of control – well, more than usual, anyway. He might have messed up by accepting Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s offer. He might have blown it big time by telling Sarah that he loved her. But Morgan was always there for him. He felt a little guilty. So much had been going on that he had been ignoring his 'little buddy' lately.

"You have reached the rarified heights I always knew you could. You have your seat on the Jedi Counsel, my friend. Allow me to be your padawan, oh master."

Chuck's smile faltered and he looked down at his hand, remembering the burning sensation when he had accepted Moses' offer.

"It's just a job at corporate headquarters," Chuck said. He had told Morgan that he had been offered a job as a vice president at Buy More Corporate. He didn't tell Morgan about the whole 'apprentice' thing.

"It's the Golden Ticket! Willy Wonka is handing you the keys to the chocolate factory. I can be the chief oompa loompa! Seriously, Chuck. I mean, I always dreamed that one day you'd be the assistant manager and I would be your right hand man, but I never dreamed that one day we would reach the highest echelon of Buy More Corporate."

Now Chuck was frowning. He hadn't gone over any details with Moses Finkelstein (etc.). He hadn't thought about leaving Morgan behind. Maybe he could arrange for Morgan to be his gofer or something. Although it was hard to imagine Morgan and his mad work avoidance skills in constant contact with Moses Finkelstein (etc.) and his relentless, driven attitude.

"Um, about the 'we', Morgan…" The line beeped. He held out his phone and saw Sarah's smiling face in her pigtails and Weinerlicious outfit. He really did miss that uniform. "Ah, Morgan? That's Sarah beeping in on the other line. Let me let you go, buddy."

"Right, Chuck. When the lady calls, you've got to answer, right? I fully understand. I'll just be…" Chuck cut the connection with Morgan and clicked over to Sarah's call. Given her mood when she had stormed out of the room, he didn't want to keep her waiting long.

"Sarah, listen," he said without preamble, "about what we were talking about earlier. I know it's kind of sudden, me springing the whole 'I love you' thing on you that way. It's not exactly the way I was intending to say it. I was picturing something more along the lines of a nice picnic, or…"

"What is her life worth to you?" an accented male voice hissed from the phone.

"Wha… What?" Chuck stammered.

"Sarah Walker. What is her life worth to you?"

"Who is this? What have you done with Sarah?"

"She is relatively unharmed… for now. If you want her to stay that way, you will listen and do exactly as I say."

"If you hurt her…"

"Silence! You do not have time for pointless threats. If you want her alive, you will bring Moses Finkelstein to me. Bring him to the Beverly Hills Buy More store in one hour. Do you understand?"

Dazed, Chuck nodded.

"I said, _do you understand_?" the voice hissed.

"Yes…" Chuck choked out.

"One hour." The line went dead.

Chuck tried to swallow the lump in his throat. It took three tries before he could control his shaking hands enough to dial Casey's number.

"Casey," the NSA agent's gruff voice barked out of the speaker.

"Casey, it's Chuck. al Fayed has Sarah."

"What? Where are you?"

"I'm at her hotel. She went for a walk. al Fayed must have grabbed her."

"Dammit," Casey hissed. "Did you talk to her? How do you know he has her?"

"He told me. He called me on her phone."

"What did he say? What _exactly_ did he say?"

"He wants Moses Finkelstein. I'm supposed to bring him to the Beverly Hills Buy More in one hour or he'll kill her. God, Casey, what are we going to do?"

"Stay where you are. We'll come get you."

"No, Casey. I'm going to see Moses."

"Bartowski, don't be an idiot. You don't…" Chuck hit the button on the phone terminating the call.

His phone rang. The scowling face of John Casey filled the screen. Chuck turned the phone off.

Chuck ran from the room and down to the Nerd Herder. He threw it in gear and exited the parking lot on two wheels.

Twelve and a half minutes later, he pulled up in front of the Buy More Corporate Headquarters. He parked in front of the row of concrete planters fronting the building and jumped out, not even bothering to close the door of the Herder as he raced toward the building.

He burst through the front doors and immediately two security guards moved to intercept him. Chuck beat them to the reception desk. "I need to see Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. This is an emergency."

He was suddenly flanked by two very large men who pressed in close. The guard manning the desk waved them off. "Good afternoon, Mr. Bartowski," he said in a pleasant, even voice. "Welcome back. Here is your corporate identification card for Buy More Corporate Headquarters. You have been cleared for access to all areas. Keep that security badge visible at all times, please."

Chuck fidgeted as the guard slid the badge under the scanner. "There you go," the guard said. "All set."

Chuck snatched the card from his hand and ran for the executive elevator. He skidded to a stop in front of it and jabbed at the button like a woodpecker working a tree. "Come on, come on," he muttered.

The doors finally opened and Chuck darted inside. He immediately started jabbing the button for the top floor. "Let's go, let's go," he muttered.

On his previous trip, Chuck had been impressed by the speed of the elevator. Now, however, it seemed to crawl upwards. Finally the doors started to open and Chuck darted out, pushing at them to try and force them apart more quickly.

"Hello, Mr. Bartowski," the receptionist on the executive floor said as Chuck ran past her. "Mr. Finkelstein…" She leaned over to watch his back recede down the hallway toward Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s office. "…is expecting you," she finished. She shook her head. "One more inmate for the asylum," she muttered.

Chuck threw open the doors to Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s office – no easy feat considering the size of the massive mahogany doors.

Amelia Banks jumped to her feet and reached under her coat when the doors banged open. She relaxed slightly when she saw Chuck, but kept her hand under her coat.

Moses was sitting behind his enormous oak desk. He rose to his feet as Chuck entered.

"Charles, what's wrong?" he said, stepping around the desk.

Chuck was panting. "al Fayed has Sarah," he gasped out.

"I see," Moses said, nodding. "What does he want?"

"I am supposed to bring you to the Beverly Hill Buy More in…" he glanced at his watch. "Forty three minutes."

Moses slumped against his desk. "I knew it would come to this. It had to. It was inevitable."

"What?" Chuck asked. "What was inevitable?"

"I hoped he would give up after you took out his associates. I hoped that maybe it was over, at least for now. A vain hope, alas. I have to confront him. It's fate. My destiny and al Fayed's have been intertwined far too long for me to escape until one or both of us are dead."

He straightened and looked at Chuck. "I am sorry that your Sarah has been dragged into this. It is ironic, really, that your love and mine…" He sighed. "But no matter. No matter. We have work to do, you and I. Have you informed your superiors?"

Chuck shook his head. "No. Well, I told Casey. And I guess he's probably called General Beckman by now."

"Unfortunate, but unavoidable I suppose." He walked over to the far left bookcase, pulled out a book, and slid his hand into the opening. He withdrew his hand, stepped back, and a large section of the bookcase slid open, revealing a hidden room. "Come along, my boy," Moses said.

Gaping, Chuck followed Moses into the opening. Chuck did a double take. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn he had just walked into the Castle, complete with banks of computers and a complete armory.

Moses walked over to the armory and took off his suit coat. He pulled on a double shoulder holster and then pulled on another suit coat from a hanger. Chuck could see that it was slightly bulkier than the coat it replaced. Chuck realized that it must have a bullet proof vest sewn into the lining. Moses scanned through his collection of firearms, selected a pair of Walther PPK's, and slid them into the holsters.

Chuck heard a noise behind him and turned. Amelia Banks stood in the doorway. She, too, shed her suit jacket. She grabbed a tac vest and started shrugging it on. Moses looked up. "That will not be necessary, my dear Amelia. But thank you. Charles and I will handle this."

"The hell you will," Amelia said, picking out extra clips for her Desert Eagle.

"Amelia, I'm ordering you to stay out of this," Moses said.

"Then I quit. But I'm coming."

Moses managed a sad smile. "That will not be necessary. You know how I hate interviewing for assistants. But you have to promise me that you will not do anything foolish."

Amelia's answering smile was feral. "I never do, Mr. Finkelstein."

Moses turned back to Chuck. "What is your preferred weapon, Charles?"

"I, ah, don't carry a gun," Chuck replied.

"Though I salute your bravery, Charles, I think that in this case you need to make an exception." He turned and surveyed the armory, picked up a pair of guns, and turned and handed them to Chuck. A matching pair of Smith & Wesson 459's – Sarah's weapon of choice. Chuck wondered for a moment if Moses knew that, then decided that of course he did.

Moses handed him a shoulder holster and a tac vest, both of which Chuck slipped on.

There was a 'boom' from Moses' office. Moses and Chuck glanced over at a monitor to see Casey and Forrest storm into the office. Amelia drew and cocked her Desert Eagle.

Casey evidently noticed the secret room, because he appeared in the doorway a moment later, Forrest a half step behind him. Forrest had her gun drawn and at the ready. As she and Casey strode into the room, Amelia slipped behind Forrest and stuck the barrel of her massive gun against the back of Forrest's head.

"Drop it," Amelia said coldly.

"You are interfering with a Federal investigation," Forrest said. "If you do not cease and desist, I will see to it that…"

Suddenly, Forrest crumpled to the floor. Amelia stood behind her, her gun raised, butt first. "She was going to be a problem," Amelia said with a shrug.

Casey looked at Amelia, down at the still form of Forrest lying on the floor, and back up at Amelia. "I like the cut of your jib," he said. "But I wish you hadn't done that."

Amelia shrugged again and pointed her gun at Casey's head. "You can join her if you like."

"We don't have time for this," Chuck said.

"Charles is right," Moses said. "You can join us, Agent Casey, or join…"

"Agent Forrest," Chuck supplied.

"Thank you, Charles. Or join Agent Forrest. Now, al Fayed has Agent Walker and we intend to rescue her. Are you with us?"

Casey looked at Amelia, who had lowered her gun slightly, but still at the ready, then at Moses, and then looked Chuck up and down, taking in the holster and tac vest.

"You got an extra vest for me?" he asked.


	28. Dancing Teddybears

A birthday treat to myself. Another chapter of 'Bomber.'

My faithful editor **Poa** ably assisted me yet again (and is, I am sure, getting tired of me spelling everything like a lawyer (waive instead of wave) but she continues to put up with me for some strange and unknown reason). Thanks P!

So, my birthday gift to y'all:

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 28

Dancing Teddybears

Sarah's head was pounding and her mouth felt like it was packed with cotton. It wasn't the first time she had been drugged, but it was the first time she had let someone simply walk up to her and jab her with a needle.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been so careless?

What more proof did she need that her feelings for Chuck compromised her ability to do her job? Except it wasn't her job anymore. She just prayed that Forrest would keep Chuck safe. He couldn't fall into the same trap. He just couldn't.

Not that it really mattered now whether it was her job or not. She had recognized her assailant just as he was sticking her with the needle – Abdul al Fayed. She was in the hands of a ruthless terrorist. She was a pawn, no doubt, in his private war against Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More and the Mossad agent who had sent al Fayed to prison for nearly 30 years.

Sarah opened her eyes to mere slits and waited for them to adjust to the light. She scanned her surroundings as best she could without moving her head, pretending to still be unconscious.

"You are awake," an accented voice said. Sarah sat very still.

"Do not insult me by pretending. I know you are awake."

Sarah opened her eyes and turned her head toward the voice. Even that simple movement was difficult. al Fayed had showered and changed out of the filthy clothes. He was dressed in traditional Palestinian robes and keffiyeh. He was sitting in a chair, facing Sarah. Sarah was in a metal chair, her hands cuffed behind her. Pain shot through her wounded shoulder, but she tried to ignore it.

"You look just like her," al Fayed said. His voice was soft, the kindly uncle and not the ruthless interrogator. "Are you her daughter?"

Sarah slipped into her 'innocent victim' persona. "Who… who are you?" she asked. "What do you want with me? Am I who's daughter?"

al Fayed stood, walked over to her and casually pressed a thumb against her wound. Pain shot through her arm and she fought to keep from passing out.

His voice turned hard. "Do not play games with me. You are an agent. You were the one who shot Hassan. Are you Mossad?"

Well, it had been worth a shot. Sarah simply glared at him.

al Fayed walked around behind her. It was an old interrogation trick. People got more nervous if they couldn't see you. Fortunately, she had been well trained by her CIA instructors. When he spoke, Sarah imagined a giant teddy bear in front of her.

"I know that she was with you at the hospital. So who is your father? Ari Schwartz or Moses Finkelstein?"

Sarah watched the teddy bear do a little dance as he questioned her.

"Or perhaps someone else? You are, what, twenty-nine, thirty years old? That would be about right. Did she tell you about me? Did she tell you she shared my bed thirty years ago?"

The teddy bear was standing on its head.

Suddenly, al Fayed appeared in front of her, his face inches from hers. His bearded face was contorted in anger. "I must know," he hissed. "Are you the daughter of Rachel Schwartz?"

Sarah tried to peer past al Fayed at the teddy bear.

al Fayed straightened and turned his back on her. He was clearly struggling to control his emotions. "No matter. You are the bait to catch a bigger fish."

He turned around and held up Sarah's iPhone with Chuck's picture on it. "Very helpful, these new phones with pictures to go along with the names. I have spoken to your partner, Chuck Bartowski. He is bringing Moses Finkelstein to me in exchange for you."

He smiled and opened the front of his robes. Numerous blocks of C-4 were concealed under his robes, connected to a series of detonators.

"Today," al Fayed said, "you, your partner Chuck Bartowski, and Moses Finkelstein are going to join me in Hell."

***

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) touched a button. "Mrs. Johnston, you may send in Warwick and Westmoreland now." Two huge security guards came in, guns drawn. They glared at Casey.

Moses nodded to the still form of Agent Forrest. The two guards smiled. Evidently Forrest had been her usual charming self when she had barged into Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s office and had made two more new friends. "Hold her in the security office. Keep her comfortable, but do not allow her to leave."

The two guards bent to start to pick her up.

"Wait," Casey said. The two looked over at Moses, who nodded. Casey reached in his pocket and pulled out a spray bottle filled with a bluish green liquid. He leaned over, opened Forrest's mouth, and pumped twice.

The guards frowned, confused.

"Mint flavored knockout spray," Casey explained. "She'll be less trouble if she's out."

Chuck looked at Casey, mouth agape. "What?" Casey said. "You haven't had to listen to her lecture on proper protocol for the last twelve hours."

The two guards dragged the unconscious Forrest away.

Amelia turned to Moses. "Do we have a plan?" she asked.

Moses handed her a sniper rifle. "You will be covering our back," he said. "If you get a shot…"

Amelia shook her head. "I'm going in with you," she said.

Moses shook his head. "Not this time, Amelia. That is non-negotiable. Charles and I will go in."

Amelia opened her mouth to protest. Moses waved her off. "This is a negotiation," he said. "It is what I do best. Charles and I will go in and he will bring out Agent Walker. I will take care of Abdul al Fayed."

Casey cleared his throat. Chuck, Moses and Amelia turned to look at him. "And me?" Casey asked. Chuck started to say something. Casey glared at him. "And if you say, 'stay in the car,' I will end you."

Moses turned to a cabinet and removed a set of keys and a card with numbers written on it. "These are the keys to the Beverly Hill store's loading dock and the override codes for the security system. You go in the back of the store and work your way in. Once you're in position…"

"Take out the bad guy and rescue the girl. Got it," Casey said.

Moses looked from Amelia, to Chuck, to Casey. All three nodded. "Let's go," he said.

Amelia led the way, followed by Moses.

Chuck sidled up to Casey and smiled. "Don't worry, I won't tell Sarah about that 'rescue the girl' crack," he said.

Casey grunted.

The smile faded from Chuck's face. "Sarah's going to be okay, right?"

Casey's face was hard as stone. He held up his gun, checked it, and said, "Don't worry, Romeo. We'll save your girlfriend." But his voice lacked its usual sarcastic edge.

Chuck looked over at Casey and nodded. "Yeah, I'm worried about her, too."

When they reached the lobby, Casey and Amelia hurried to Casey's suburban. They would go ahead to scout the location and set up in their positions.

Moses led Chuck out the front door, toward Chuck's Nerd Herder. "We'll take your car," he said. "Less conspicuous."

Chuck nodded and the two headed toward the Herder, still parked in front of the building.

"I'll drive," Moses said. Chuck started to lodge his standard protest that it was a company car, but caught himself. He shrugged and handed Moses the keys. Who had more right to driver the Herder than Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More?

Moses walked around to the driver's door. Someone had apparently stopped to close the door Chuck had left open when he ran into the building. He opened the door and paused before getting in. Chuck looked at him questioningly. Moses looked up at the Buy More corporate headquarters. "When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain," Moses whispered, "he wept, for there were no more worlds to conquer."

Chuck frowned. He wasn't sure he had heard correctly. "What was that?" he asked.

Moses shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing."

Chuck and Moses rode in silence. Moses was unusually quiet, not his usual boisterous self. Chuck glanced over at him. He seemed much older as he piloted the Nerd Herder quickly but carefully toward Beverly Hills.

Not one given to enduring long silences, Chuck finally couldn't take it anymore. "Why are you doing this?" he asked softly.

"Hmm? What?" Moses asked.

"Why are you doing this?" Chuck repeated. "Putting yourself at risk for me. For Sarah. You barely know us, and here you are risking your life for us."

"For you? No," Moses said, shaking his head. "Well, perhaps somewhat. Your Sarah. She reminds me of someone. Someone…" His voice trailed off. After a pause, he shook his head, as if shaking away a memory.

"No offense to you, my boy," he said, suddenly his normal animated self, "but this is clearly beyond your abilities." He held up a hand. "No reflection on you or your team, but al Fayed is too good for you. Too good, apparently, for Ari Schwartz and his Mossad team. Oh, you came close. Closer than I would have thought. But clearly it's up to me. Just like thirty years ago. I was fooling myself to think that anyone else could do this for me. This is between me and al Fayed."

He slapped the steering wheel and smiled. "In a way, I should be grateful to the old bastard. I haven't felt this alive in years."

Moses looked over at him. There seemed to be an odd light shining in his eyes. "Do you know how Patton died?" Moses asked. Chuck shook his head. "A car accident. The greatest general of World War II and he died in a car wreck."

Chuck frowned, confused. "I'm… I'm not sure I understand…" Chuck began.

Chuck's cell phone rang. It was Casey. "Yeah, Casey?"

"We're picking up chatter on the police band," Casey said. "I guess al Fayed didn't trust you to bring Finkelstein to him. They're reporting that a man and a woman walked into the Beverly Hills Buy More. The guy said that he had a bomb and ordered everyone out. He's demanding that Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, be brought to him."

"Where are you?" Chuck asked.

"We're just pulling in," Casey said. "The local police have the place surrounded."

"We're right behind you," Chuck said.

Chuck lowered the phone and turned to Moses. "al Fayed is in the store," he said. "He has a bomb and he's demanding that you come."

Moses nodded. "Abdul, ever the impatient one," he said. "You would think that thirty years in prison would have taught him something." He shrugged. "No matter. We will give him what he wants."

A police officer was standing at the entrance to the parking lot. He waved the Nerd Herder to a stop and came around to the driver's side window. "Sorry, folks," the officer said. "We have a little situation here. I'm afraid you're going to have to turn back around."

"I believe that your superior will want to see me," Moses said, smiling. "I am Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. I believe that the bomber is asking for me."

Chuck leaned over to speak to the officer. "Charles Carmichael, FBI. Mr. Finkelstein is with me. Is that Captain Anders over there, running this operation? I think she'll want to talk to us."

The officer shrugged and motioned them through.

The parking lot was full of squad cars, fire trucks, a SWAT van and an ambulance. The police had cordoned off the store and moved the onlookers back to the far side of the lot.

Moses Finkelstein (etc.) stepped out of the car and tugged at his suit jacket to straighten it. He turned to Chuck. "Captain Anders, you say?"

Chuck nodded. "The woman over there talking to Casey."

They walked over to where Casey was arguing with Anders. Amelia was standing just behind him, glaring menacingly at Anders. Anders was glaring back.

"… and that hostage is an FBI agent, so we're taking over this operation," Casey was saying.

"Well I'm sorry, sweet cheeks," Anders rasped, "but this is my jurisdiction and my operation and you can't just come in here and bat your eyes at me and expect me to hand it over to you."

"Excuse me," Moses said, stepping between Casey and Anders. "Captain Anders? I am Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More. I understand that my presence has been requested?"

Anders took a half step back and looked Moses over. "So you're the big cheese, huh? Yeah, the nutbar inside has asked for you."

"Well, then I would hate to disappoint him," Moses said. He turned toward the store.

"Whoa there, big fella," Anders said, grabbing Moses' arm. "You aren't just walking in there."

Moses turned back to her. "Of course. I should wait for Agents Casey," he nodded at Casey, "and Smith," he nodded at Amelia, "to get into place. Five minutes?" he asked Casey. He turned and looked over his shoulder. "There, I think, Agent Smith," he said, pointing to a rooftop across from the front of the Buy More.

Casey smiled and jogged away. Amelia pulled a long, black case from the back of the car and walked toward the perch Moses had pointed out.

"Now look here…" Anders started.

"I do thank you so much for your assistance," Moses said, smiling at Anders. "You have done a tremendous job, what with capturing the Buy More Bomber's associates. I have already expressed my gratitude to Police Commissioner Ramirez. And now you have lured Abdul al Fayed out into the open. Brilliant police work, Captain. Simply brilliant. And now we can end this."

Anders frowned and started to say something, but Moses continued quickly.

"You remember Agent Carmichael, don't you? Of course you do. He's become something of a legend around here lately, I understand. He'll be accompanying me into the store to confront al Fayed. We couldn't have done it without you, Captain, and I intend to make that clear to Commissioner Ramirez, when I have dinner with him next week. Now, I suppose that Agents Casey and Smith are in position. We should be going. Come along, Agent Carmichael."

"Now just a minute," Anders stammered.

"Oh, no need to thank me," Moses said, waving a hand as he turned toward the building. "Always happy to assist Los Angeles' finest whenever I can."

He started walking toward the store. Chuck had to jog the first couple steps to keep up with him, and then settled into step beside him.

Anders blinked in confusion, but didn't move to stop them.

"Are you really having dinner with the Police Commissioner next week?" Chuck asked quietly.

"Of course not," Moses said. "The man's a bore. But Captain Anders doesn't know that. That's your first lesson, Charles. Just take charge. People, especially those in a hierarchical organization, are used to following orders. So give them orders."

They reached the front of the store and Moses stopped. He turned to Chuck and smiled. He didn't appear nervous in the least. "Are you ready, my boy?" he asked.

Chuck swallowed hard and nodded.

Moses stepped forward and the doors opened.


	29. Bearding the Lion

Thanks again to **Poa** for her help with this chapter.

Sorry for the delay in updating. Lots of travel and RL.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 29

Bearding the Lion

Moses walked confidently into the Buy More flagship store. Chuck hesitated a moment and then followed him, hurrying to catch up.

The normally pristine store was marred by signs of the hurried exit of customers and staff. Displays had been knocked over and CD's and DVD's were strewn across the floor. One of the standees of a Beverly Hills Buy More employee had been knocked over and its back was covered with footprints.

"I did not think you would come," a voice called from inside the store. Chuck looked over to the source of the voice.

Abdul al Fayed, dressed in formal Palestinian robes, stood just in front of the Nerd Herd desk. His arm was wrapped around Sarah's throat. Sarah looked pale and Chuck could see a small red stain on the front of her shirt.

"Sarah," Chuck gasped. He took a step forward, but Moses held out an arm, stopping him.

"Hello, Abdul," Moses said. He held out his hands to show he held no weapon. "I came as you asked. Let the girl go."

"Curious that you show so much interest in her," al Fayed said. "Who is she to you?" He tightened his grip around Sarah's neck. Sarah stifled a groan.

"I should have known that a piece of camel dung like you would never keep his word," Moses spat.

al Fayed's eyes narrowed.

"I, ah, don't think we should be making him mad," Chuck cautioned.

al Fayed looked over at Chuck. "And you. You are clearly not Mossad. CIA? FBI perhaps? This one," he shook Sarah, "would not tell me anything. A strong woman." He slid his eyes back toward Moses. "Like her mother."

Chuck furrowed his brows. al Fayed knew Sarah's mother?

"But who is her father?" al Fayed continued, speaking to Moses. "Ah, that is the question. At first, I thought, it might be you. You always wanted her. But she was not for you. It was my bed she shared."

Chuck looked over at Moses. Her? Then it dawned on him. al Fayed was talking about Rachel Schwartz! al Fayed thought Rachel was Sarah's mother? Of course she wasn't… was she? There was a striking resemblance between the two, Sarah and Rachel. But Jack Burton was Sarah's father. He looked to Sarah for some sign, but she was wincing in pain.

Moses shook his head in mock sadness. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Taking a woman hostage? It is beneath you, Abdul. Does not the Koran say that women are to be protected? And yet you hide behind a woman's skirts."

"Ah, but not just any woman," al Fayed countered. "You would not risk yourself if this was just some Mossad agent. It's because of her, isn't it? You could not face her if you allowed something to happen to her daughter."

"You always were a coward, Abdul," Moses continued, ignoring al Fayed's response. "You never had the guts to plant the bombs yourself, or to martyr yourself for the cause. Even now, after all these years, you didn't come after me directly. You bomb stores. You attack my _things_ instead of confronting _me_."

al Fayed shifted his hold on Sarah, and she moaned in pain. Chuck tensed, glancing around for some way out of this standoff. Where was Casey?

"Does it bother you, Moses, that she shared my bed for over a year, while she spurned you? That it was I that tasted the sweet flower of her youth, while you could only dream of paradise? She was quite the lover, you know."

Chuck saw Moses tense, his hand twitching toward his coat. Moses stopped himself, and Chuck watched as he lowered his tight-fisted hand to his side.

There was a little more edge in Moses' voice as he continued. "How pathetic that you do not even recognize that this," he waved his hand to indicate the store, "means almost nothing to me. My true strength is beyond your reach."

al Fayed smiled, although his eyes remained cold. "Did you know that she was a virgin when you sent her to me? And even after that, even after she let me deflower her, she refused you. Was it you that debriefed her, after? Did you get her to tell you all the intimate details of our time together?""

"Just shut up," Moses said from between clenched teeth.

"Ah, so you did. I see it clearly. The only way you could have her was vicariously through what she had done for me."

In one fluid motion, Moses reached in his jacket, pulled out his Walther, and pointed it at al Fayed, who ducked behind Sarah. "Shut up!" Moses hissed. "Just shut the hell up."

"Ah, ah. Lower your weapon," al Fayed said, holding up his left hand. Chuck gasped. al Fayed had a small cylinder in his hand, his thumb pressed firmly on a button on top. Chuck's eyes rolled up in their sockets and images flashed through his head – a dolphin breaching the water, schematics, diagrams, tables and charts, a dolphin breaching the water. Chuck gasped again. al Fayed was holding a dead man's switch.

Sarah, seeing the look on Chuck's face, looked up at him and mumbled "C-4."

"Silence!" al Fayed barked.

Chuck looked more closely at al Fayed and suddenly recognized the lumps under the terrorist's robes. If al Fayed's thumb left the button of the dead man's switch, the explosives strapped to his chest would immediately explode.

Moses clearly recognized the switch as well. His gun wavered for a moment, as if he was contemplating shooting anyway. Then, slowly, he lowered the gun.

"Did you know she was in the city?" al Fayed asked calmly. "I was watching the hospital after Agent Walker here was injured. I saw her going inside."

Chuck glanced over at Moses. The ex-Mossad agent was breathing hard through gritted teeth.

"I thought about taking her. I knew if I had her you would be forced to come. But she is still the same clever Rachel. She eluded me. But I have been watching. Yes. I have been watching you and this corporation of yours. This corporation that you built with _my_ money." He motioned at Chuck with the dead man's switch. "This one means something to you. And she means something to him. I knew if I had her, he would bring you to me."

"This is between you and me, Abdul," Moses said. "Let them go. That was the agreement."

"One must have honor to demand honor in return. You have no honor. You are a parasite. You believe in nothing but yourself."

Moses raised his gun again. "Shut Up!"

al Fayed laughed. "You always thought yourself so clever. You tracked me down. You stole my funds. But it was never you. It was Rachel."

Moses' hand was shaking and his finger tightened on the trigger.

"I know now that Rachel was feeding you information while she was sharing my bed. I only wonder why it took her so long. Perhaps because she was enjoying the assignment too much? Perhaps I gave her what you could not?"

Sarah moaned.

Moses was breathing hard. Chuck saw the muscles in Moses' forearm twitch and he leapt at Moses, knocking his arm down. Moses' gun went off, a bullet tearing into the floor and ricocheting into a display behind al Fayed and Sarah. Chuck winced, expecting the blast at any moment.

The door to the back room flew open and Casey barged in, his gun pointed at al Fayed.

"Casey wait!" Chuck screamed. "He's got a dead man's switch!"

Casey froze, his laser sight painting a red dot on the back of al Fayed's head.

"Let's all calm down here," Chuck pleaded. "Everybody just calm down."

Moses inhaled sharply, but held his gun down by his side.

"Back off, Casey," Chuck said.

"Do as he says," al Fayed demanded.

Casey slowly lowered his gun and backed toward the door.

"We came as you asked," Chuck said. "Let Sarah go. She's hurt. She needs medical attention."

When al Fayed didn't move, Chuck reached slowly in and lifted the guns Moses had given him out of their holsters. Gingerly, he set them down on the floor. "See? I'm unarmed. I'll trade myself for her. You said I meant something to Moses. Doesn't that make me a better hostage?"

"No," Sarah said, her voice barely a whisper. "Chuck, you can't."

"Sarah, please," Chuck said. "I can't…" He took a deep breath and looked at al Fayed. "Rachel once meant something to you. Let her daughter go. Let Sarah go."

al Fayed seemed to consider for a moment, then he pushed Sarah away from him. "Go!" he barked. "Tell your mother that despite her betrayal, Abdul al Fayed has taken pity upon our daughter."

Sarah staggered forward and eyed the guns on the ground at Chuck's feet-- Smith & Wesson 459 – her weapon of choice. Chuck saw the direction of her gaze and gave a small shake of his head. "Sarah, please," he whispered. She swayed and he ran to her, supporting her in his arms.

"Take her out of here, Charles," Moses said, suddenly very, very calm.

"No!" al Fayed snapped. "She may leave. The boy stays."

"Let them go," Moses said softly. He crouched down and placed his gun on the floor. He straightened and looked over al Fayed's shoulder. "Thank you for your assistance, Agent Casey, but I think it's time for you to go as well."

Casey hesitated, but Moses nodded and he started backing out the door.

"Charles, get Rachel out of here," Moses said.

Chuck looked over at Moses. That strange light was in his eyes again. Moses opened his arms wide and started toward Abdul al Fayed. "Come, my brother," he said.

"Moses, no," Chuck gasped.

"Chuck." Sarah pulled at his arm. Chuck looked down at her, then back at Moses who was walking slowly toward al Fayed, then back down at Sarah. He slipped a hand around her waist and started to pull her from the store.

They were almost out the door when the explosion hit.


	30. Fallout

A tip of the hat to my editor, **Poa**, for her tireless and timely tickling of my trashy text.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 30

Fallout

"Excuse me, young man," the silver-haired woman in the velour jogging suit said to the curly-headed man behind the Nerd Herd desk. When she got no response, she tried again, louder. "Young man, excuse me."

Chuck shook himself a little, blinked, and plastered a smile on his face. "I'm sorry, ma'am. What can I do for you?"

"I need to get this fixed," the woman said, holding out a twisted lump of metal and plastic.

Chuck took the object from the woman and turned it this way and that. "It's a…" he ventured.

"My digital camera," the woman said, nodding. "I left it on the roof of my car and then backed over it when it fell off. When can you have it ready?"

Chuck turned the object over in his hands. "I… ah… I'm really sorry, ma'am, but I don't think I can fix this."

"But the commercials say 'Bring it to the Nerd Herd. The Wizards of Modern Technology. If it computes or clicks, entertains or mixes, cooks or cools, the Wizards will fix it like new.'" By the end, she was half-singing the jingle from the Nerd Herd television ads.

Chuck handed back the pieces. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you don't need a wizard, you need a mortician. This camera is dead. I'm afraid you're going to simply have to replace it."

"Well!" the woman huffed. "I bet those nice boys over at Large Mart can fix it." She turned and stomped off.

"Yeah, good luck with that," Chuck muttered after her.

He sighed and looked around the store. It was packed. Between pent-up demand from having the stores closed during the Bomber crisis; the news reports of the death of the Bomber; the publicity from Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s 'martyrdom' to catch the Bomber; the new ad campaign to draw customers back to the store; and the loss of several stores, the Burbank Buy More was busier than Chuck had ever seen it. Even Morgan was actually having to work.

Chuck rubbed his hands on his pants. His palms were healing and the bandages had come off, but they still itched. He glanced over toward the back of the store, where Casey was showing a fawning middle-aged woman the features of a Beastmaster 7500. He sighed. Other than the crowds, it was like the last two weeks hadn't even happened.

No, that wasn't exactly true. Out the front doors and across the parking lot, he knew, there was a shapely blonde behind the counter at the Orange Orange, but it was the wrong shapely blonde. Agent Alex Forrest continued to fill in while Sarah convalesced.

Sarah was at the Twin Oaks Rehabilitation Hospital, a special facility for wounded agents (with a cover as an exclusive celebrity-friendly rehab facility). Chuck had wanted to stay with her, but she had ordered him away. "The last thing we need right now is you rocking the boat, Chuck," she had said. "Just lay low and play along until Casey and I can get this mess straightened out."

'This mess', of course, being Moses' offer of making Chuck his apprentice, Sarah's capture by al Fayed, Chuck and Casey's rogue mission to rescue her, and Agent Forrest's rather forceful removal from that mission. Chuck mentally winced at the memory of the de-briefing following the incident at the Beverly Hills Buy More. He had never seen General Beckman so mad, and hoped he never would again. Only two days of testimony before the Senate Intelligence Committee (thankfully unrelated to Team Bartowski) had prevented her from boarding a plane and flying to Los Angeles immediately. As it was, all of Team Bartowski was on administrative suspension pending a review of the entire Human Intersect project by Beckman herself. In the meantime, Agent Forrest had been ordered to keep an eye on Chuck and Casey, an assignment Agent Forrest was pursuing with ruthless efficiency.

Chuck sighed and his eyes drifted over to the far wall, where the portrait of Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, was draped in black crepe paper. His mind drifted back to the day of Moses' death.

Chuck had no memory of the blast itself. One minute he had been hurrying from the store, the next he had awoken to darkness and pain. He had tried to move, but was pinned by debris. "Over here," he had heard a voice call, as if from a great distance. The debris covering him had shifted and he had blinked in the sudden glare of emergency lights.

"Damn," a raspy voice had muttered above him, "I was hoping it was sweet cheeks." He had blinked the dust from his eyes and squinted at the voice. Slowly, a lined face with a cigarette dangling from its lips had come into focus: Captain Barbara Anders, the LAPD detective in charge of the Buy More Bomber investigation. Anders had turned her head and spoken to someone Chuck hadn't been able to see. "It's Agent Carmichael," she had said.

"Sarah," Chuck had rasped, his throat dry and coarse.

"She's right here. We're digging her out now. She's going to be okay," Anders had said. "Where's Johnny? Where's Agent Casey?"

"Back of the store," Chuck had managed. Anders had hurried off while firefighters dug Chuck and Sarah out of the debris before taking them, once again, to the 'special section' at County General.

"Well," a snide voice snapped Chuck out of his remembering. "It seems that with the enforced vacation, some people have forgotten how to work."

Unfortunately, the death of the Bomber and the reopening of the stores meant that everyone had returned, including the officious Emmett Milbarge, the Burbank Buy More's assistant manager. Chuck couldn't keep the scowl off of his face. "So I guess your mother's leukoplakia cleared up, huh Emmett? Moses was rather disappointed you weren't here when he stopped by."

Emmett's face contorted with rage. "Don't you _dare_ talk about our sainted leader in such familiar tones. You're not worthy to kiss the ground…"

"Excuse me." Both Chuck and Emmett turned at the sound of a stern yet pleasant female voice.

Emmett's eyes went wide at the striking woman in the severe suit standing just before him. His tone went instantly from demanding to fawning. "Good afternoon, ma'am. Welcome to Buy More. How may I help you?"

Amelia Banks looked at Emmett as if looking at a bug. "You may not. I am here to speak to Mr. Bartowski."

Emmett turned and glanced at Chuck, before turning back to Amelia. "I am afraid Mr. Bartowski is rather busy at the moment. I think his break is in another thirty-three minutes, if you would…"

Amelia interrupted him by handing him a card. "Amelia Banks, office of the President, Buy More Corporation. This is official Buy More business and I _suggest_ you stand aside."

Emmett's mouth opened and closed several times, like a fish gasping for air, and all the color drained from his face. "Ms. Banks, I apologize. I had no idea…"

"From what I understand, you never do, Mr. Milbarge." She stepped around him and smiled at Chuck. "Hello, Chuck," she said, her voice softening.

"Hello, Amelia," he replied. "I didn't get the chance to talk to you after…" He swallowed. "Anyway, I'm sorry about Moses."

Amelia started to speak, but noticed that Emmett was still standing there, agape. She turned on him and narrowed her eyes. "Mr. Milbarge," she said, her voice cold, "if you have nothing better to do, perhaps I can arrange for a position for you cleaning the Buy More warehouse."

"Oh, excuse me," Emmett sputtered. "I was… That is, I… I was going to… Is that Big Mike calling? Excuse me." He hurried away.

Amelia turned back to Chuck and her expression softened once again. "Thank you," she said. "He was a royal pain in the ass, but I'm going to miss him. Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

"Sure," Chuck said, stepping out from behind the counter. He glanced over at the home theater room, but there were customers in it, so he turned and looked toward the back of the store. "Come on. We can go back to The Cage."

He led Amelia to the back of the store and down the hall to the The Cage. The room was, fortunately, unoccupied. All of the Nerd Herders were assisting the green shirts with onslaught of the customers. Chuck pulled up a rolling chair for Amelia and propped himself up on the Nerd Herder's work bench.

Amelia dusted off the chair, then took a seat, crossing her long legs. She started to speak, but then paused and looked over Chuck's shoulder, one eyebrow rising questioningly.

"Is that a chinchilla?" she asked, indicating a cage behind Chuck.

"Two, actually," Chuck said, looking back at the chinchilla cage. "It's a long story."

Amelia shrugged. "It's good to see you, Chuck."

Chuck nodded. "You, too."

"How's Agent Walker?" Amelia asked.

"She's doing okay," Chuck said with a slight shrug. "She's in rehab for her arm. al Fayed reinjured it when he took her hostage, but the doctors say she should make a full recovery."

"That's good," Amelia said. "And Agent Casey? How much trouble is he in?"

Chuck frowned and shook his head. "We don't know yet. General… um, our boss is coming out to conduct a review of the operation."

"Whatever I can do to help," Amelia said. "You know that, right?"

"Thanks," Chuck said.

Amelia took a breath. "Well, this is not purely a social call." She reached in her attaché case and pulled out a small object Chuck recognized from his first meeting in Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s office – a jamming device. She touched a button on it and set it on the floor next to her.

"I assume you're being monitored?" she asked.

Chuck nodded. He frowned. Forrest wasn't going to like this.

Amelia reached back in her attaché case and pulled out some papers. "Charles Irving Bartowski," she said formally, "on behalf of the Board of Directors of the Buy More Corporation, I have the duty and honor to inform you that at a special meeting of the Board convened yesterday, you have been elected as Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of the Buy More Corporation, effective immediately." She reached out to hand Chuck the papers.

"Excuse me?" Chuck stammered.

Amelia broke into a smile. "You're the new boss, Chuck," she said. "It was Moses' last wish."

"But… but… how?" Chuck stammered.

"As soon as you agreed to be Moses' apprentice and heir, he immediately called in the attorneys. The stock of Buy More Corporation is to be divided twenty-four and one-half percent to Rachel Schwartz, twenty-four and one-half percent to a trust for all those killed and injured in the bombings and fifty-one percent to one Charles Bartowski. And he gave me a proxy to vote the shares until probate of his estate was complete and the stock could be transferred. He also left you the remainder of his estate. You're a very wealthy man, Chuck Bartowski."

The door to the back room burst open and Casey came charging in, gun drawn. Chuck jumped to his feet, but Amelia merely turned and smiled. "Hello, Agent Casey. How nice to see you," she said evenly.

"Forrest called," Casey said, ignoring Amelia. "She lost the feed to the back room when you two came in here."

Amelia picked up the small device. "That is because Mr. Bartowski and I were having a private conversation, Agent Casey," Amelia said.

"I'll bet," Casey growled.

"Mr. Casey, I resent your tone and your implication," Amelia said, rising from her chair. "Further, I would expect more respect shown toward your new employer, even if it is merely your cover job."

"My _what_?" Casey exploded.

"Mr. Bartowski has been duly elected the chairman and CEO of Buy More Corporation," Amelia said. "With all the rights and privileges appertaining thereto. As such, he is entitled to the utmost deference and respect."

"In Hell," Casey muttered. "Listen, sister. It's my job to protect this bone-head and I don't appreciate…"

"Your services in that area will no longer be necessary," Amelia said, cutting him off. "I will be acting as Mr. Bartowski's administrative assistant and body guard, effective immediately."

"A… A… Amelia?" Chuck stammered.

Amelia turned back to Chuck. "Unfortunately, we were interrupted before I could explain. "Mister Finkelstein directed, before he died, that I was to continue on in the same capacity for you as I did for him, as your personal assistant and body guard. A duty I am pleased and honored to perform."

Casey couldn't help sneering suggestively, "And what other services did you provide?"

Amelia suddenly turned on Casey in a blur of motion, whipped out her Desert Eagle, and stuck the gun's barrel under his chin. "I do not care for your tone nor your implications, Agent Casey," she hissed.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Let's all calm down here," Chuck said, trying unsuccessfully to insert himself between Casey and Amelia.

After a moment, Amelia stepped back and lowered her gun. "As you wish, Mr. Bartowski," she said formally. "But Agent Casey owes me an apology."

Chuck turned to Casey. "Casey?"

"What?" Casey snapped.

"Apologize."

"Like hell."

"Casey!"

"Oh, all right," Casey muttered. Then he mumbled something that could maybe possibly have been 'I apologize.' He was looking at the floor, but Chuck noticed that his eyes drifted upward to take in Amelia's rather pleasing form.

The door burst open again and Agent Forrest barreled in to find herself facing the barrels of both Casey's and Amelia's guns. She skidded to a halt and her eyes narrowed. "You," she hissed at Amelia.

"Stand down, Forrest," Casey said, lowering his weapon. "I've got this covered."

Amelia, Chuck noticed, didn't lower her weapon.

"But the surveillance feed…" Forrest said.

"Obviously a malfunction," Casey said. "Why don't you go back and run a full diagnostic. As you can see, Chuck is not in any danger."

"Protocol dictates…" Forrest started.

"Add it to the list," Casey snarled and turned his back on her.

Forrest sputtered a couple times, glared at Amelia, and then backed out of the room. Only then did Amelia lower her gun.

"I really don't like that woman," Amelia said.

Casey turned to her. "Okay, now explain to me just what in the hell is going on."

"Simple," Amelia said, returning her gun to the holster under her jacket. "Chuck is the heir to the Finkelstein fortune and he is now the new Chairman and CEO of the Buy More Corporation."

"Chuck me," Casey muttered.

Amelia turned back to Chuck. "There's something else."

Chuck's head was swimming. "That's not enough?"

"It might be easier if I show you rather than tell you. You'll have to come with me."

"No," Casey said.

Amelia turned and looked at him, her face settling into a scowl. "Mr. Casey, you are simply going to have to accept that Mr. Bartowski now has certainly responsibilities… and certain prerogatives… given his new position and status. Further, Mr. Bartowski's security is now my responsibility and I will do _everything_ in my power to make sure that he is protected."

"Worked well for Finkelstein, didn't it," Casey said.

Seeing Amelia draw in a sharp breath and take a step toward Casey, Chuck stepped between them. "Why don't you come with us, Casey?"

"I'm not sure that's…" Amelia began. At a pleading look from Chuck, she took a step back and relaxed. "Of course, sir. If you would be more comfortable having Mr. Casey accompany us, then I'm sure that would not be a problem." Her tone was even, but her narrowed eyes were fixed firmly on Casey as she spoke.

"Shall we, then?" Chuck asked, motioning for Amelia to lead the way.

They walked out of the back room, Amelia in front and Casey in the rear.

Emmett looked up just as Chuck and Casey were about to leave the store, Amelia having already stepped through the doors. "Not one more step!" he cried loudly. "Where do you think you two are going?" Chuck and Casey stopped and turned back to face him, and then the doors opened and Amelia stepped back into the store. At a single look from her, Emmett dropped the clipboard he had been holding.

Chuck smiled condescendingly at Emmett. "We're leaving, Emmett. I don't know when we'll be back. Is that a problem?"

Emmett's eyes darted from Amelia, to Chuck, and back to Amelia. "No. No problem. Take your time."

The trio turned and exited the store. Davis, the chauffer, was waiting by the rear door of the limousine. He gave Chuck a small nod as Chuck climbed into the car. "Mr. Bartowski," he said, a slight smile on his face.

As Chuck, Casey and Amelia settled into the back of the limo, Chuck turned nervously to Amelia. "You still haven't told him about the 'Lurch' comment, have you?"

Amelia smiled. "No, Mr. Bartowski. And as Davis is now your driver, you can call him 'Lurch' if you want."

Chuck watched the huge man climb into the driver's seat and shook his head. "I think Davis will do," he said.

Amelia tapped on the glass and the limo glided slowly away from the curb.

The drive to Buy More Corporate Headquarters was tense, with Casey and Amelia glaring at each other. To pass the time, Chuck started playing with the buttons on the console next to his seat. First, the divider between the driver's and passenger's compartment slid down and back up, then a small video screen popped down from the roof. When he touched the next button, music began playing, rather loudly, through hidden speakers. Casey growled, but Amelia smiled and stifled a chuckle. Chuck frantically stabbed buttons until the music turned off. With a sheepish smile and a shrug, he settled back in his seat and watched the scenery for the rest of the trip.

As they neared their destination, Amelia pulled a paper from her attaché case. "Mr. Casey, I am afraid that before we reach our destination, we will require your signature on this Non-Disclosure Agreement." She handed the paper to Casey.

Casey threw it back at her. "Like hell."

Amelia turned and rapped on the glass leading to the driver's compartment. The limo slowed.

"Casey," Chuck said. "It's not like you can't keep a secret."

"Hell," Casey grumbled, but he reached down, picked up the document, scribbled his signature on it without reading it and threw it back at Amelia.

Amelia smiled, nodded, and tapped on the glass again. The limo sped back up.

A short while later, the limo pulled around to the back of the Buy More Corporate headquarters and stopped before a large steel door. Davis rolled down his window and leaned forward. He punched in a code and a device popped out to scan his retina. It popped back in and the door slid slowly up. Davis pulled into an immaculately clean, well-lit underground garage and pulled into a spot at the end of a line of identical limousines. He got out and hurried around to open the door.

Amelia was the first out of the limo, followed by Casey and then Chuck. "Thank you, Davis," Amelia said with a slight nod.

"Yes, thank you, Davis," Chuck said and then hurried to follow Amelia as she walked toward a pair of elevator doors. She chose the elevator to the right, laid her hand on a scanning panel for identification, and then leaned forward for a retinal scan. The door to the elevator opened and she stepped to the side. "I'm afraid I will have to ask each of you for a handprint and retinal scan," she said to Chuck and Casey. "It's an automated security precaution."

Chuck readily complied, growing more curious by the moment.

Casey grunted, but complied. Chuck suspected Casey was as curious as he was.

Amelia boarded the elevator and as soon as Chuck and Casey were on board, the doors closed and the elevator began a rapid stomach-churning descent for several floors before easing to a stop. Casey's eyes narrowed. "How deep?" he asked.

"Ten stories," Amelia replied. "The first five are the parking garage for headquarters. Level six and seven are mechanical. Level eight is bedrock and level nine is mechanical and electronics." The doors opened. "And this," she said, indicating with a sweep of her hand, "is Level Ten."

Chuck stepped out of the elevator and looked around, his mouth falling open.

It was nerd heaven.

Chuck immediately thought of Mission Control. Or maybe the War Room from 'War Games.' There were two massive screens on the far wall displaying a world map and satellite plots, as well as video feeds from various news organizations. Men and women dressed in green Buy More shirts huddled before consoles beneath the large screens.

"What is this place?" he asked.

"Mr. Finklestein told you that the Buy More was only the tip of the iceberg with regard to his holdings," Amelia said. "This is the true heart of the empire-- espionage for hire. From here, Mr. Finkelstein collected intelligence and dispatched agents for corporate espionage, provided freelance intelligence work for friendly governments, and performed other activities requiring Mr. Finkelstein's… unique skill set and expertise."

Chuck glanced over at Casey. Casey's eyes were wide.

"This… This is wrong," Chuck said. He turned to Amelia, aghast. "We have to shut this down. We can't…"

He was brought up short by Casey's iron-like grip on his arm. "Not so fast, Bartowski," Casey said, a strange light in his eyes. "Not so fast."


	31. Epilogue

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Epilogue

Six Months Later…

The long, black limousine pulled slowly to the curb. The uniformed bellman leaned over and opened the door. Cameras began to flash and click. A tall, curly-headed man in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo stepped out of the vehicle, turned, and offered his hand. An elegant woman's right hand, sporting a bracelet worth a small fortune, reached out and took the man's hand. The man beamed as he assisted the absolutely stunning blonde out of the car. She stepped onto the red carpet and leaned in to showily plant a kiss on the man's cheek. "Thank you, Chuck," she said.

Chuck's smile widened. "Oh, it's my pleasure, Sarah."

Off to the side, a television reporter turned to the camera. "Now arriving are Charles Bartowski, the mysterious CEO of Buy More Corporation. Mr. Bartowski is here to dedicate the new Moses Finkelstein wing of the Westside Medical Center. Mr. Finkelstein, you will recall, was the Founder and former CEO of Buy More, killed when he heroically and single-handedly confronted the terrorist who was attacking Buy More stores throughout southern California. The eccentric Mr. Finkelstein chose an unknown Nerd Herd employee, Mr. Bartowski, as his successor and heir, leading to speculation that Mr. Bartowski was Mr. Finkelstein's long-lost son…"

Over on the red carpet, Chuck, with Sarah on his arm and a prim-looking Amelia Banks standing off to the side out of the limelight, turned to the various cameras, smiled and waved. He suddenly winced and touched his invisible earwig as Casey's voice boomed painfully in his ear. "All right, Bartowski, enough playing trained monkey for the media and get inside. Your target is Donatella Garibaldi, the daughter of Antoine Garibaldi, the arms dealer. She has a thing for rich young entrepreneurs and she likes to steal other women's boyfriends, so she should be on you like stink on cheese. Beckman wants you to get her to introduce you to her father and see if you can flash on anything to allow us to intercept the hijacked Stinger missiles."

"I know, Casey, I know," Chuck said softly through his forced smile. He turned and started leading Sarah inside. He leaned down and whispered to her, "Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?"

Sarah ran a hand up his arm, sending shivers down his spine. "Only about a dozen times."

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Chuck asked. "You just…"

"Chuck," Sarah warned. "You promised to quit coddling me. I'm one hundred percent. I can handle myself."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," Chuck replied, squeezing her hand. "Just don't hurt Ms. Garibaldi too badly when this is over."

Sarah smiled sweetly up at him. "No promises. I have a lot of pent-up frustrations to get out."

***

In the secure bunker known as Level Ten, John Casey touched a button and the stern face of General Diane Beckman appeared on the massive screen. "Yes, Agent Casey?"

"Operation is a go," Casey said. "Bartowski and Agent Walker are in place."

"I'm concerned about Agent Walker," Beckman said. "Are you sure she's up to this?"

"General," Casey said, "you know as well as I do that we wouldn't have access to all of this," he indicated the espionage playground around him, "without Bartowski. He refused to play ball without Walker on board. I think our initial successes speak for themselves."

General Beckman allowed herself a rare smile. "Indeed they do. And I have big plans, for Team Bartowski. Big plans…"

***

Across town, in the Burbank Buy More, Emmett Milbarge pushed his broom and turned away from the painful images of Chuck Bartowski's grand entrance plastered across the video wall. He looked morosely over at the black-draped portrait of Moses Finkelstein (etc.) flanked by a grinning portrait of Chuck Bartowski 'Our CEO' and a wild-eyed portrait of Morgan Grimes 'Vice President of Product Development and Testing' and wailed, "Why? Why? Why?"

***

And in the lobby of the Buy More Corporate headquarters, Jeff Barnes stopped and tapped on the glass of the huge terrarium that was the life-like habitat of his lost road to riches, the chinchillas formerly known as Romeo and Juliette (as it turned out, they were actually both males and had thus been renamed Jeff and Lester). He had willingly insisted on selling the chinchillas to Chuck after he found out that in order to harvest the fur, you actually had to kill the cute little creatures.

Lester Patel came walking over and slapped him on the back. "I still think we didn't charge Charles enough for them," Lester said. "Oh well. You finish your report for Morgan?"

"No," Jeff admitted.

"Neither did I. Let's go get a beer."

FIN

***

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

What a long, strange trip it's been…

First, of course, a big 'Thank You Very Much' to my dutiful (and woefully underpaid) editor, **Poa**, and to my occasional guest editor **MySoapBox**, both talented writers in their own right, for all of their help and suggestions with regard to this story.

Second, thank you to all who reviewed the story or sent PM's. The only compensation we fanfic authors receive is the reviews and encouragement of you readers, and I think the Chuck fandom has some of the most intelligent, gracious, and generous readers anywhere on the net. And I'm not just saying that.

Finally, a word or two about writing this story (which is, of course, the cue to quit reading). I started out to do two things: to write a story that included Moses Finkelstein, Founder and CEO of Buy More, and to write a story that was a little more humorous than my previous attempts. In the first, I think I was successful. In the second, perhaps not so much. But in my defense, this story had a life of its own and it took me on its rollercoaster ride along with you, gentle readers.

My good friend and editor, **Poa**, gave me a book – Stephen King's 'On Writing.' In it, King says that good writers do not write plots. What they do is more akin to archeologists. They begin with an idea and slowly uncover the 'bones' of the story as they go. While I make no claim to being a good writer, that is a perfect explanation of how this story evolved. I started with those two simple ideas, and the story and characters ran away with me from there, leading me down paths I certainly had not foreseen when I started this monster. Hopefully, it has been as entertaining a ride for you as it has been for me.

Of course, King also preaches the benefits of a good re-write. Oh well. Sorry, Stephen.

Oh, one last thing. This story sort of sets up a whole new Chuck Universe. Let's call it the "Buy More Boss" Universe. Maybe someday I will write a sequel. But in the meantime, if anyone wants to play in this universe, feel free. I only ask that, if you do, you be kind to Amelia Banks, Captain Barbara Anders, Ari & Rachel Schwart, Doctor Poa and the rest.

Cheers.

Timewalker.


End file.
